


Freaky Friday

by hestia_Prytaneum



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lizzington - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-03-25 14:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3814555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hestia_Prytaneum/pseuds/hestia_Prytaneum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only way to truly understand another person is when you have walked a mile in their shoes. Or two. AU - somewhere in the future on Red's birthday. If you could be another person, who would it be? RedxLizzie Humor, angst, mystery and romance.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A ‘simple’ game of chess.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lourdes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lourdes).



> Pre-posted on FF. Now on A03 to start the journey. WIP. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing the characters for fun. Maybe if is ask nicely? Dear Mr. Bokenkamp…

 

_Liz was flying, the wind rustling through her white feathers, her wings spread out as far as they could reach, floating in the air. Weightless. Happy. Free. No past. No future. Just enjoying the scenery...the majesty of the mountains, endless sea of green trees, colorful birds and a picturesque clear blue lake. A characterization of nature’s rugged beauty and peacefulness. A place she longed to be. The bright sun warmth her skin and elated her heart. Why couldn’t life be as simple as this? A blue bunting bird accompanied her, smiled with his curious eyes and opened his mouth as a way of greeting, chirping happily at first until not a moment later, a different noise erupted from her small companion. So shrill that it pained her eardrums. Liz eyed the tiny creature in wonder, speculating about how it could produce such a large sound. Another shout followed. The tone was oddly familiar. The ringing…she had heard it before...something was wrong. Her wings began to feel heavy, unstable, wavering in the sky and fluttering. Liz turned her head to glance at her modified forelimbs. They were tied up with chains, pulling her down as another ringing tone assaulted her ears. Wait...ringtone? All of the sudden, she was unable to fly and plummeted to earth, weighted down by rocks. Trapped. Fearful. She was falling. Falling fast..._

**Ring….Ring…!**

Liz’s body came back to earth with a jolt. Her heartbeat pounded erratically in her chest, like she had just run a marathon.

_‘God damn it!’_

She did not like to be woken up, especially since she had trouble sleeping the moment a particular, eccentric man decided to upend her life. It was such a lovely dream. She longed to be somewhere else, be someone else. Something else.

She lifted her head and glared at the red digits of her digital alarm clock. It made her irritably aware that it was just a few minutes past 12 a.m. Great, she had only been sleeping for two hours, roughly.

**Ring…Ring…!**

“Ugh, shut up!” Liz harshly whispered, trying to block the irksome sound by burying her head deeper into her warm, soft pillow. A few more rings and it eventually stopped.

Whoever had called must have misdialed. Work didn’t need her for a few days. She had some downtime and was looking forward to a lovely weekend of R&R with Hudson. Nothing more, nothing less.

**Ring…Ring…!**

Liz squeezed her still-closed eyes, praying that it would simply disappear once again. Evaporate into thin air.

**Ring…Ring…!**

No such luck.

She angrily felt around for her phone, grabbed the offending object off her bedside table, and placed it to her ear.

“Hello?” she groggily answered. Silence. No sound other than the crunching of someone eating, sizzling, and foreign voices in the background.

“Lizzie, were you _sleeping_?” a melodiously elated voice asked.

“Not anymore,” Liz grunted, the sound muffled by her pillow. She was not in the mood for his antics. Not today.

Red disregarded her sour attitude and gibed, “In that case, could I tempt you in sharing a meal with me?”

_‘You have got to be kidding me! At this unholy hour? He doesn’t even have the decency to act the least bit remorseful for waking me up. The audacity of him sometimes.’_

“Red, it is 12:05 A.M.” Liz hissed, slowly rolling onto her back and snuggling her body further into the warm cocoon of her cotton comforter.

“Yes. I am well aware of the time. I am surprised that you are in so early,” Red jested, his voice slightly higher pitched than usual. “It is _Friday._ ”

As if Liz had other plans on Friday, work ate up all of her time as it was. What was she suppose to do? Hang out with friends? Red was the closest thing to a friend she had these days. Everyone else had a life outside of work. Samar, Aram...even Ressler had a significant other. She wished things were different, but wishes didn't make anything real.

“I had a rough week…some criminal I work with decided to create havoc around the office and I paid the price with three stacks of paperwork,” Liz tiredly replied.

She hoped he would understand that she was not up for it. Still, it didn’t erase the guilt she felt. It was not often that he paid her the courtesy of calling her during their spare time. It was a pleasant change. Criminal. Asset. Partner. They had grown closer over the years. Bonded. Their relationship had evolved into something more.

The chewing stopped. “I am sorry for the inconvenience,” Red sincerely apologized after a moment of silence. He knew that their grueling work schedule took a toll on the mind, body, and soul. A fact of which he was all too aware. Embodied. Shared.

_‘Damn him.’_

The smallest change in nuances made her want to do about anything for him. Hook, line, and sinker.

Liz, worried her bottom lip. It was not her intent to make him feel bad about it. After all she had chosen to walk this path with him. Red really was a blessing and a curse. Her perfect elusive mastermind mystery. A profiler’s wet dream. _Her friend._ They had gone through some hellish experiences together. Shared a lot of laughter, tears and secrets. Secrets that would have destroyed most, only made them stronger. Forgiveness was never easy, but they truly had something special. Unique. Indestructible.

“No you are _not,_ but that’s okay…I am going back to sleep now, Red. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” Liz slowly breathed out, yawning, still with her eyes closed. Tired....she was oh so dog-tired. Tomorrow would be better.

“No, you won’t,” Red retorted, matter-of-factly.

Her stomach plummeted to the floor. That was not what she expected to hear. But then again, he was nothing if not unpredictable.

She huffed and shifted her body until her back was resting against the headboard and wrapped her right hand loosely around the cool, wooden rail.

“Hmm, why is that?” Liz muttered, annoyed, her eyebrows catapulting in a V shaped frown. She was giving up. Done with being friendly. What was his problem?

“Lizzie, come dine with me. I would appreciate your gracious company. _Tremendously,_ ” Red tried again. Pleading. Huskily. Irresistible.

_‘Manipulator...’_

His voice vibrated through her body as if he were aware of the effect it had on her. Will always have on her. Liz had told him this once, in an inebriated state, and profoundly blushed when Red worded all kinds of incoherent things in her ear. Russian. Spanish. Italian. Even some grotesque verses in French, which she recognized from the lady marmalade song. Corny, but, oh so sexy. They never spoke of it again, but he unquestionably had not forgotten. It was just her luck that Red had a steel-trap mind and an elephant memory. She had vouched to _never_ consume large amounts of alcohol in his presence _again_. Ever.

“Why is it suddenly so important?” Liz attentively probed while slowly opening her eyelids. Soon enough, her eyes began to adjust to the hazy darkness around her as she stared fixedly at the cold, stark, empty wall across from her. Her bedroom was barely lit, sans for the mysterious ray of moonlight peeking between her heavy curtains.

She tightened her grip on the headboard. Caving. Maybe sharing a meal wouldn’t be so bad. She couldn’t get back to sleep now anyway. She would undoubtedly dream of him. Mister inaccessible. Her dark knight in very _fine_ suit of armor.

His gruff, sultry voice on the other end of the phone brought her out of her reverie. “I don’t want to be alone on my birthday.”

Oh crap, did she forget? Her notifications were on. _‘Is it the 7th of February already?’_

Liz deeply blushed, as if he were right there in her room, looking down at her. Caught in the act. Dreaming of the birthday boy. It made her heartbeat elevate, flutter. Her stomach tightened and her breath caught in her throat. ‘Act normal’

“Happy birthday, Red," she burst out and pinched her nose, almost hitting herself with her phone. _‘What happened to act normal?’_

Thankfully Red chuckled, not in the least disappointed that it had slipped her mind. More delighted that she was still hanging on. He chewed the inside of his cheek and pursed his lips.

“Thank you. Now, come join me, Lizzie. I promise you I’ll make it worthwhile. They have these lovely dumplings, I have no earthly idea what they contain, but they are _divine._ And their Chinese herbal tea...” he took a deep breath, slurped, slowly swallowed and breathed out, exhaling a sound stuck between a grunt and a moan. Pure unadulterated pleasure. “It’s simply a delight…I must insist that you _come_ and try it. Or anything else you may _desire_ …” Red coaxed with his eyes closed, irrefutably grinning, imagining her in bed, listening to him. If he couldn’t persuade her to join him, he would make up an excuse to hear her.

Persistent. Convincing. Liz would give him that. It made her smile that he valued her presence so much. Red would say anything to talk her into trying new things and experience the wonders of what life had to offer with _him._ He wanted her to live more, to play, to have fun and she did, just not enough. It was time for a change.

She had already decided to go, and honestly, didn’t need a reward, but that didn't mean she was going to turn his offer down either.

“Anything?” she gently tested through half lidded eyes, one eyebrow lifted, purposely lacing her words with double entendre.

Liz let go of the rails and weaved her fingers through her tangled, silken locks with a cheeky smile gracing her face. Imagining him seeing her in her unruly state of undress. In no more than an oversized white T-shirt and black lace. Making him uncomfortable. Squirm.

She could hear Red almost choking on his tea as he sipped, spurted, and tried to hide his cough. Perfect timing. Victory.

They flirted, they bantered, but it never went further than that. It was comfortable. Pleasant. Welcomed. A silent mutual agreement between partners.

Red groaned. He fell right into her trap. She wouldn’t win that easily. Time to show Lizzie whom the rooster was.

“Within reason. But, yes, Lizzie... _anything_ ,” he gruffly retorted, his throat slightly hoarse due to the tea that had burned him. Payback is a bitch. He will make sure that she would try every dish he ordered. Starting with fertilized duck eggs.

Liz gasped...her plan had backfired. The low and smoky dulcet tones of his voice had the power to send an electric current down her spine and set her nerve endings on fire. Her right hand stilled, tangled in her locks and pulled at a strand of hair. It stung. She whimpered and bit her lip in order to keep quiet. Frozen. The thought of getting _anything_ she wanted from him send a shrill of excitement through her veins and warmed her from the inside out. The short hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Her left hand tingled, the phone almost slipping from her clammy palm. Her fingers barely held on. She needed to calm down before he noticed something was wrong.

The rhythm of his breath eventually soothed her mind and guided her into a state of hypnotic relaxation. Collecting her salacious thoughts, Liz slowly came back to reality.

“Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Forward me the address,” she breathlessly worded. Uncontrollably. Uncaring. It was his birthday after all. Why not indulge him on his special day? It was also their first time celebrating it together. Celebrating it at all.

“How delightful. No need, Dembe will be there in...” Red cheerfully replied, smiling from ear to ear. He glanced at his watch, squinting at the numbers. Dembe had left a while ago. “I estimate, roughly ten minutes.”

Liz’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. The bastard knew that she would say yes even before she did. Of course he did. Red had the ability to sell a car to a blind man. She was no exception. Queen to B4. Check.

“Really, Red? You _cannot_ be serious. How do you expect me to be ready in ten minutes!?” Liz hissed, jumping out of bed, the unexpected chill of her bedroom very unpleasant against her bare arms and legs, as was his ridiculously untimely request. Yet, here she was, frantically shoveling through her closet like a wild banshee, searching for something appropriate. Nothing was quite right.

 _‘Lights would be good.’_ Yeah, some light could be helpful. She flicked it on. The bright yellow light irritated her eyes, and she squinted at the sudden intrusion and groaned.

 _‘Maybe lights off was better,’_ she thought after seeing her disheveled reflection in the oval shaped mirror above her dresser and rumbled though her drawers. Nothing. Zilch. Zero. She could always forgo the clothes and just go in her birthday suit.

Liz grinned at her own ridiculousness. She would definitely get arrested for indecent exposure, but the look on Red's face would be priceless and well worth a smudge on her record. Getting _fired_ however, was not.

She let her hands rest on her hips and pursed her lips. Maybe she should just grab something random instead and go with it. Or maybe _not._

Liz was experiencing the agony of being an indecisive woman. She had never been bothered before. How come she was now? She let out a heavy sigh and picked up the cell left on the dresser during her frenzy, hoping that Red would still be there. He always was.

“I have nothing to wear,” she exhaled, embarrassed for even bringing it up and rolled her eyes at herself. As if he would care about what she looked like.

Red’s rich, deep, warm laughter erupting from the other side was well worth it. Infectious. A smile of her own mimicked his. The sound brought the depth of her feelings right up to the surface. Feelings she’d long thought buried. Familiar yet alien. True happiness within her grasp. Frightening and forbidden.

“Relax, Lizzie, I am sure that Dembe wouldn’t mind waiting for a bit. I do have one…small request,” Red mischievously uttered.

“YES?” Liz curiously questioned when he remained silent for more than a second, while sorting through her dull wardrobe one handed. She was in desperate need of some new apparel and added it to her mental to do list. Shopping.

“Dress down and wear something _red,_ ” Red quickly replied with a sly smirk, as if she could see him through the mobile device.

“What? Why?” Liz bellowed to no one. The dial tone in her ear let her know that Red had already hung up. _‘Son of a bitch’_

He just loved to reel her up and constantly kept her on her toes. Continuously let her conjecture about his next move. Always at least one ahead. It is what had drawn her to him. His very intrusive, enigmatic prowess. Unbeatable, until the day came when he no longer was. It was lonely at the top.

Liz huffed out a deep breath, tossed her mobile back on the dresser, and rubbed her temples with the tips of her index and middle fingers. She could still feel the affects of the sleeping pills, but nonetheless dragged her feet across the floor with an armful of clothing and made herself get ready in the bathroom.

…..

Should she really indulge him by wearing something red? Or be rebellious and do the opposite because it was in her nature? Red vs. Red.

She glanced at her semi-put together reflection and smirked as if she had just came up with an ingenious plan. Why not both?

By the time she was done applying her lip gloss at least 15 minutes had passed. Not a record time, but she blamed her partner for that. Only Red could persuade her to have dinner with him in the middle of the night, and she was the only one insane enough to accept.

Liz fastened the buckles of her black leather ankle boots and ruffled Hudson’s fur; the small canine waggled his tail and barked in return. The sound warmed her heart. She really loved her little man. The one constant in her life, besides Red.

“Later, dude,” Liz called out to her dog.

Tossing him a biscuit, she grabbed her dark waterfall front leather jacket and hurried out the front door. There was no need to make Dembe wait longer than necessary.

A thought struck her as she rapidly descended the staircase of her apartment building.

_‘Hold up...if Dembe is here, why did Red say that he was alone?...Raymond Reddington, I’ll make sure that this will be your last birthday ever.’_

The birthday boy had no idea what kind of gracious company Liz could be, but he would find out. Soon enough.


	2. To Moments.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: Katy Perry – This Moment. 
> 
> All we have is this moment  
> To put our love into motion  
> Yesterday is history  
> So why don't you be here with me yeah  
> Be here with me now
> 
> Tomorrow's unspoken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not mine.

Liz stood in front of the restaurant where Dembe had dropped her off and stared the sleek sedan down until it disappeared into the dead of night. Perplexed. She had asked Red’s confidant why he wouldn’t join them when he made no attempt to leave the car. He just smirked, said that Red did not require his attendance and bid her good night.

Even though there have been many occasions where she had been alone with Red, Dembe was always close by, kept a watchful eye for all those who dared to come near. Somehow, it felt strange to be here without him. She had grown accustomed to Dembe’s looming presence; Red’s right hand man, his younger, adopted brother. She knew about their history, and although her and Dembe had bonded over the years, she could never figure out much about the loyal, gentle giant. He was an enigma, more or less just like his comrade.

The Restaurant looked oddly vacant from the outside; the windows were obscured by menus and darkened to a shade of black with the sign; CLOSED, lit up above the door. Liz frowned and glanced at her watch. It had been roughly forty minutes since Red had called her and hoped she wasn’t awfully late to the party.

She was about to ring the bell when the door flew open.

“Elizabeth, I am glad you could make it.” Red’s smooth voice greeted her, his broad, dimpled smile creasing his face as he beckoned her to come inside, and guided her through the hallway with a light touch of his right hand across the small of her back.

Liz adored the way her given name rolls off his tongue like a caress, spoken in soft melodious vibrations. It made her feel like the woman she is and not merely the girl she once was. Don’t get her wrong, she valued Red’s nickname for her, but sometimes it was reminiscent of Sam. It had been his term of endearment for her as often as he used Butterball. She still missed her father dearly and wished everyday that she could share parts of her life with him. Found herself wondering in the darkness of most nights, what he would think of her. If he could see her now, would he be proud? Would he be disappointed with the direction she had chosen? Would he intervene if he discovered just how close she and Red had become?

Knowing her dad, he would probably have a stern talk with his old friend and then try to throttle him to death. Sam’s protectiveness over his ‘little girl’, was his most endearing and frustrating quality…funny how that works.

She would do anything to have him back, even if just for one day. A mere minute to see his face again, to smell his old aftershave, to hold him, to say; _I love you daddy_.

_Anything._

A gasp for hope needed like precious oxygen, never to come true. No one could rise from the death.  Not even  _Lazarus_ himself

One cold night, a few years ago she found herself crying, banging her knuckles raw on Red’s door in the middle of the night. It had been Sam’s anniversary. She couldn’t even remember how she got there. One moment she was at her father’s grave, the next she was gazing into the sympathetic sea green eyes of the man who took his life. The disease had already taken Sam long before Red did, but she accused him of killing her father over and over again nonetheless. The sorrow, the anger, and the suffocating loneliness she felt, had cut deep, like a knife of grief slicing through her core, with emotions and an edge she never thought existed.

Liz wanted him to fight back, to say something, _anything_ , but he didn’t. Red stood completely motionless in his door’s opening, accepting it all, every punch, and every bitter word of hurtful accusations. Pure acid escaped the tip of her tongue. 

She had used him as her own personal pincushion and stuck him full of needles, one after the other until the tears streamed out of his deep, sunken eyes and silently rolled over his stubbled cheeks. That was the moment when she stopped and realized that he was hurting too, for her, for him, for the friend he lost, for the life he took. No matter how unjustifiable his actions were; they shared the heavy pain of loss.

He was unraveling.

Shaken.

Red was in ruins, but so was she.

Somehow, he found the strength to take a sock clad step forward, and gathered her up in his strong arms, lifting her off her feet and clung to her for dear life. Refusing to let go, he had led them inside and closed the door with his feet. “I am so sorry, Lizzie,” he breathed in her ear, planting small kisses all over the right side of her pale, weary face. Her soft cheek, the tangled tresses of auburn hair, puffy closed eyelids and everywhere else he could reach.  “I am so _very_ sorry.”

The arms that were slack at first, wrapped tightly around the strong column of his neck as she cried for what seemed like hours, muttering the words she never thought she had the ability to say. “It’s okay, I _forgive_ you...I forgive _you._ ”

_‘I am so sorry for...Everything…Please, forgive me too._

She had to move forward, after all, it had never been his fault that Sam had become sick, it was not his fault that she was left without parents. None of it was his doing. Liz knew the truth, yet, condemned him for using her, for robbing her of a normal life, robbing her of those precious, last moments. Moments he did have with the person she had loved the most. Liz had to unburden him of the guilt he carried in his heart for far too long. If she could forgive Red, maybe one day he could forgive himself as well.

All that mattered now was that he was there with her.

That they were there for _each other._

The beauty and sadness of two souls morphing into one.

Red slowly smoothed his warm, sturdy hands over her back. Comforted her with the sweetest sentiments, the gentlest touches, and for a fleeting moment, she imagined him to be her father. Not in biology, but that support system she no longer had. The strong arms that had enfolded her, made her feel safe. He is and always will be there for her. Her rock. A man who surrounded her with his solid warmth and overwhelmed her with his undying love. A love she still couldn’t comprehend.

He was the first to pull back as he gazed in her saddened eyes, mirroring his own inner turmoil and brushed her tears away with his thumbs. “Sam will always be here with you, Lizzie. His body may have passed, his soul is ever near. Right here.” he solemnly whispered, his right palm hovering over her heart, afraid that If he touched her again, she would simply disappear, retract back into the comfortable cocoon of her zombie-like life. 

_Life seldom has more meaning to us than when someone we love dies and for us to appreciate the joy of life, we need to understand the anguish of pain._

And just like that, her invisible impenetrable shield, finally cracks.

After she had calmed down and shrugged her heavy jacket off to reveal her dad’s, old, grey woolen sweater, they had spent the rest of the night on his comfortable, red Victorian sofa staring at the ardent, orange embers of the crackling fireplace, firmly pressed against each other. From their sock clad feet, knees, and hips, up to their sides while her head rested on top of his shoulder.

Red’s clean, smoky scent and his emanating body heat, brought comfort in a situation when it was needed most. His left arm that was lazily slung over the back of the couch brushed over her hair and ghosted over her shoulder as they shared stories about Sam, before the fire eventually died down and they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

_Be still my beating heart, for a fire will melt the ice and fight of the cold that once penetrated your soul, and let the tear of feeling start._

That was the night when Liz realized how deep her feelings for Red ran, the day she decided to tuck them away and lock them down for good. After all, the sad reality of the matter was, they could never be.

While the treasured memory was one of many, it was the moment when everything changed for her. She had let go of the unfair hurt, anger and resentment towards Red, and opened up to a bond she never thought possible with another person. He was special.

They were something special.

Her past, present and future collided into one, confusing mess of feelings, which would not leave her alone. No matter how hard she tried. Her walls were crumbling.

Brick by brick.

Standing in the narrow hallway of the ostentatious pink, hole-in-the-wall noodle shop that smells of stale cigars and Chinese food, Liz stopped reflecting on what had been and focuses on what still could be.

Red stole a glance at her and saw that she was staring off into nothingness with a faraway look in her crystal blue eyes as he closed the door behind them, but decided not to press. The memories she was currently reliving didn’t matter, she was here, now, with him. There was no time like the present and he wanted to make every second spend with her count. Effortless. Enjoyable. Memorable.

His eyes wandered over to the vision in front of him. The rise above her breasts, the dust of lovely freckles on her sternum, delicate skin of her supple neck, porcelain face, slightly cold tingled pink cheeks, sensual glossy lips, and lovely ears, partly hidden by her long auburn hair that cascaded in shining waves over her shoulders. Perfection. She was perfect to him.

Her thin waterfall leather jacket did nothing to fight off the harsh NY cold and neither did the baby blue, V-neck blouse she wore underneath. The soft, black skinny jeans, which she prefers to wear on her off days, accentuated her curves and the sexy, heeled, leather boots with open sides, gave him a peek at her gorgeous feet. 

Her striking beauty was something that left him amazed and took his breath away. The added years since they met, had been good to her and he wondered how she was looking even more attractive now, while he was deteriorating, slowly morphing into his grandfather. God, he was getting old. Too old.

“I know I told you to dress down, but you could have worn a proper coat, Lizzie.” Red’s deep dulcet tones, amusingly reprehended her as he helped her out of her jacket and hung it up next to his in the otherwise empty coat checkroom.

“How thoughtful of you Red, unfortunately I was in a bit of a hurry and didn’t think I would have to stand outside, in the cold.” Liz light-heartedly accused.

Red smirked and turned around to grab the plastic bag she was carrying in her hand, when she brushed him off. 

“I’ll keep this one with me, thank you.” Liz politely declined.

 Red slipped his hand into the crook of her elbow and led them to the table in the middle of the restaurant. 

 “May I ask what you brought?” he lightly probed.

 “You may,” Liz replied with a small smile as he pulled out the chair for her and she sat down.

 “You are not going to tell me, are you?” Red uttered as he sat on the opposite side of the small round, table with white lace, plastic tablecloth. The smile he wore from the moment he laid eyes on her, now permanently stuck on his face.

 “Nope, how does it feel to be the one left in the dark, Red?” Liz questioned with a little smirk and a mischievous glint in her sparkly blue eyes. She loved their banter and shift in dynamic. It felt superb.

Red nodded and continued too openly gawk at her as he took it all in, creating another mental picture to place it in the box of everything _Lizzie._

Upon closer inspection, he saw the dark shadows beneath her eyes, not concealed by the fresh, minimal make-up and had a fleeting moment of guilt for being egotistical, for having the need to be close to her.

She showed up nonetheless.

When in need, _both_ always did.

The problem was that he had an overbearing need for her and frequently found himself consoled by amber colored liquor instead. It stilled his thirst and fogged his mind, but did nothing to diminish the brooding ache lingering in his heart.

She couldn’t possibly fathom the depth of his feelings for her, but she must have an inkling by now. When it came to Lizzie, he was weak. Powerless.

Just a silly, lovesick boy.

He had continuously showed her how much he cared, told her in cryptic messages and poetic anecdotes. Red made it as painfully obvious as he could without expressing those three vital words that never made it past his lips. Syllables she wasn’t ready to hear nor reciprocated. He was better off enjoying her company while it lasts. Lizzie didn’t see him as a romantic interest and he couldn’t have her the way he wanted too. Stuck in limbo. She deserved better. Deserved more. He would be her partner, her friend, her confident, her family, any role she wanted him to fulfill until the day he died. For her, it had always been for her. His ray of light made him less hideous. For that, he would be eternally grateful. Indebted.

In her eyes, he was no longer a monster and her perception of him was the only one he cared about. She made him feel human again

“Elizabeth, you look positively _radiant,_ thank you for accompanying me tonight.” Red’s deep, raspy voice mouthed with a slow appreciative grin as Liz observed their surroundings.

It was a quiet, relatively small, warm and cozy restaurant; no more than ten tables in close proximity to one another, lined up in a circle along the colorful, decorated walls. A place she imagined Red to be when he didn’t have dealings with criminals. Private. Anonymous. No one would expect Raymond Reddington to dine at a place like this, she knew better. There was no need to impress anyone. No need to pretend. Not when he was alone with her.

After a moment, her focus drifted back to Red and flashed him a closed lipped smile.  She would never tire of hearing him telling her, in his own way that she was beautiful or even when she wasn’t.

_Lizzie you’re a winter not an autumn._

_Wow! And I like your clutch._

“Well, I couldn’t say no to the birthday boy now, could I? You were very persistent,” Liz jokingly scoffed back, brushing his compliment away and fiddled with her fingers as her hands rested in her lap.

Guess some things never change. Why couldn’t she just say thank you, you’re not so bad yourself, like a _normal_ person. Probably because she wasn’t.

Maybe it was the way he looked at her that made her so self-aware.

His cheeky, lopsided smile and that damn sparkle in his eyes, made her stomach flutter and her heart skip a beat. It left her feeling like a schoolgirl, insecure and awkward. She wanted to shout, _stop_ looking at me that way if you are not going to act upon it. She wanted to scream _kiss_ me. But, she lacked courage and feared rejection.

What if the feelings she saw in his eyes were merely a reflection of her own? A mirror of what she wanted to see. A figment of her own creation.

Another _lie_.

No, Liz would not open that can of worms and risk getting it shoved right back in her face. They were partners. Friends. Nothing more, nothing less. That didn’t mean that she couldn’t appreciate the view of the handsome man sitting across from her.

In fact, he looked better now than he had in months, even years. He had aged well.

Red’s graying salt and pepper hair was slightly longer with crisp, silver sideburns, his cheekbones more prominent and sharp now that he had lost some weight, his golden eyelashes glowed every time he blinked, and caught the light of the sweet orange lamp hanging above their table and his thinning, rosy lips, still, _very_ kissable. The seaming lines on his face made him look distinguished and the nifty outfit he wore had pieces of her favorite suit on him.

His tight, navy blue vest accentuated his broad chest, the rolled up sleeves of his white button down showed off his tanned forearms, the open collar, gave her a peek of dark grey curls, and his snug, impeccably tailored, light grey suit pants paired off with his regular brown-pebbled shoes, made for a very attractive, dapper looking man.

She had once made fun of him and asked how come he owned so many suits, and yet, had a very small shoe collection. Red tilted his head, grinned at her, and asked her if she was _that_ curious, she should come over and see for herself.

He probably hadn’t meant it like she had heard it and she never took him up on his offer. She would rather see them off anyway and then realized, he was never seen without them on, except for that one night.

Liz preferred him in this state of undress, relaxed and open. Comfortable.

“I am a lot of things Lizzie, a boy is most certainly _not_ among them.” Red retorted with a sly smile.

No, a boy he was not. He was a gentleman, who once was capable of the cruelest actions hidden beneath the softest verses. Liz wanted to give herself credit for the change in Red, but only you can change yourself. All she did was give him a mirror and helped him to wash away some of the torment, the compunctions, the memories. Their lives were enriched by each other’s presence, instead of destroyed. Poison and cure. Two sides of the same coin.

Red pursed his lips and leaned forward on the table, his gaze steady on hers.                                                                                                

“And, I must say, you, most _definitely_ are a winter, but I am a somewhat disappointed that you didn’t indulge me in the color of my choosing,” Red pouted with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

A lopsided grin adorned Liz’s pretty face, her darkened blue orbs as clear as ice.

“Who says I didn’t?” she seductively replied.                                                           

Red’s eyebrows shot up for a second, before they settled back in soft, half moons above his darkened sea green eyes. His pupils dilated as he undressed her in his mind, wondering exactly which item of clothing could be his favorite color on her whilst Lizzie stared him down with that Mona Lisa smile of hers. 

He was impossibly attracted to her and she must have been aware of that fact, or did she take the banter as innocent flirtation?

A question he often asked himself. How far is too far?

_He, who played with fire, was bound to get burned._

A feeling he was well acquainted with. He justified his conduct, by deluding himself that it didn’t mean anything, all in good fun. A well-worn disguise and she was willing to play along. ‘ _How delightful_.’  After all, it takes two to tango. If Lizzie only knew that she was everything he desired and more, but could never have.

Before Red could ask her about the particular red item, two Asian American women interrupted their exchange.

His expression changed in an instant, transforming into one of delight, lit up eyes and a mouth-watering smile. Another well-crafted mask. 

Ling was a kind-looking, older woman in her 80’s and petite at 5ft, standing next to her tall daughter, wearing a modest black pants and blouse outfit.

Kimberly was a striking, slim woman in her late 40’s, standing over 5’7ft tall, wearing a gorgeous, long, form fitted, red cheongsam dress, embroidered with small white flowers.

Both had their shiny, raven black hair pulled back in a chignon, held together by two silver colored, oriental hairpins.

“Elizabeth Keen, I like you to meet two of the kindest, most _beautiful_ women, I've ever had the pleasure of meeting! Kimberly and her lovely mother Ling,” Red enthusiastically gestured towards the women standing on the right side of their table.

“Nice to meet you both,” Liz politely greeted them with a sweet smile and a handshake.

“Oh Raymond, hush, and nice to _finally_ meet you, too dear.” Ling kindly replied, flashing her a row of pearly whites.

“So, _you_ are the _young_ woman Raymond won’t shut up about,” Kim greeted Liz with a brittle smile and crossed arms.

“I hope you've only heard _good_ things,” Liz retorted and jutted her chin out, trying to make light of the obvious distaste heard in the woman’s voice. It made Kimberly instantaneously less attractive. 

With a tight squeeze on her arm, Kim’s mother stopped her daughter before she could reply.  

“That he did dear, not to be worried, I am sure Raymond has not exaggerated his tales of the beautiful, smart, federal agent. You must know that Raymond is quite the storyteller.” Ling reassured her, noticing the heat that spread over Liz’s face and winked at her. She was instantly fond of Elizabeth. Some people just connect and some unfortunately do not. Jealousy is an ugly emotion that could affect anyone, her _mature_ daughter included.                                                                      

“Here is more of your favorite tea, Raymond.” Kim purred, grabbing the Chinese porcelain, blue and white, dragon painted teapot from the bus cart behind her and poured him a cup full, then placed the pot on the middle of the table.

“Thank you Kimberly, but I believe Lizzie would like some tea, too,” Red suggested with slightly raised eyebrows and batted his eyelashes. Kimberly had never been impolite before.

“Oh, I am _sorry…_ would you like me to pour you some tea, Elizabeth?” Kim offered, flashing her a cheesy smile. 

“No, thank you. I can do it myself and you can call me Liz.” Liz peevishly vexed. She was getting a little fed up with this woman’s uncalled-for animosity towards her.

Ling’s look of disbelief stared holes in the back of her daughter’s back as she purposely left Lizzie’s cup empty and left the table without another word.

The older woman felt embarrassed for her daughter’s behavior, but could not show any indication that this was the case in front of their guests. She wanted to leave a lasting impression on the girl, Raymond was so fond off, and not one filled with bitterness and venomous confrontations.

Ling sighed and turned around towards the couple, who were silently making mooneyes at each other, ignorant of the little drama that was about to unfold when she had a well-needed tête-à-tête with her daughter.

“I apologize for my daughter’s impoliteness and if you need anything else, please do not hesitate to ask,” she apologized, apparently sensing the need to do so. Not so much for them, but more for her.

“There is really no need Ling and we will, thank you.” Red reassured the sweet woman and squeezed her hand before she left.

Liz took notice of the exchange and wondered how close he was to the family, but she was also hungry and made a mental note to bring it up later.

Without her even asking for it, Red delicately poured Liz’s matching china cup full with the dark, delicious smelling liquid.

“Thank you, Red.” she said and raked her fingers through her hair, somewhat embarrassed for her asinine conduct with Kim. It had not been her intention to bring discomfort to an easily avoidable situation. Some people just rubbed her the wrong way, antagonized her, and she couldn’t help but to retaliate. If only she had kept her cool.

Red sat there looking rather bemused, he knew her too well. “You are welcome.” he softly replied, before taking a sip of his tea with his eyes closed and let out a small grunt.

Liz enclosed her hands around the warm cup and chuckled, enjoying the scene in front of her. “Is it that good?” she asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Oh, it’s quite _delicious._ You should try it,“ Red gruffly suggested, looking at her through half-lidded eyes.

His penetrating gaze sent a shiver down her spine, and heat crept up her neck.

Liz had a feeling that he was doing this on purpose, trying to make her feel uneasy and she needed some control back on the situation, fast.

She averted her eyes to the pink menu left on the side of the table as if it were the answer to her silent prayer and quickly snatched it up.  

“So, what is good around here?” she asked, hiding her heated face behind the cheap, plasticised printout.

Red softly snickered, wasn’t she just the sweetest thing he has ever come across? As hard as Lizzie could be as an agent, she could also turn it off and become soft again in a blink of an eye, when dealt with certain emotions. It was a rare glimpse into the girl she still was underneath the carefully constructed, concrete wall she had purposely built around herself.

He took hold of the menu Liz was clutching and tried to pry it out of her hands.

“Lizzie, I have already taken care of it. The food will be served shortly,” Red argued, when she tightened her grip.

“What if I want something else?” Liz snubbed, staring over the top of the menu, her eyes shooting daggers at him. She did not need Red to order for her, she was not that kind of woman and he knew that.

Red shook his head in amusement. “If you somehow mastered reading Mandarin in the time that I have known you, than by all means…be my guest,” he sarcastically quipped. 

 _‘Well shit in my hat and stamp on it’_ Liz thought, as her dad would say, when she indeed noticed the foreign characters. Could this evening be any more embarrassing?

 When she finally let go, Red smugly placed the menu on the table behind him.

Liz let out a silent sigh and grasped for a foothold, anything to get herself back to acting like an evolved intelligent being. Unfortunately, they were alone and couldn’t talk about any other, funny looking guests; Red always knew an outlandish story behind.

 Liz scrunched her eyebrows and darted her eyes around the unoccupied dining area. She wouldn’t put it past him if he has rented out the whole restaurant, just for them. How romantic.

 “Red, why are we the only guests here?” she questioned after a pregnant pause.

“Because the restaurant closed over an hour ago.” Red responded as a matter-of-fact, tilting his head, shooting her the same look he did, when she asked him what he was wearing, before they went to the Syrian Embassy. 

  _A tuxedo. I’m your plus one._

 But then again, maybe it's not so much a romantic gesture as merely an illusion.

Her foolish heart betrayed her once again. Recover and abort.

“Are you telling me that they kept the kitchen open for _you_?” Liz asked, slightly baffled. Sometimes, she was still, very much surprised about the vast range of his connections.

Red grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “Ling and I are old friends and she wanted to do something special for my birthday. I merely played my part in the equation; I don’t indulge that often in celebrating anything,” 

Liz raised an eyebrow at the statement. “I didn’t notice.” she retorted sarcastically.

Celebration or not, Red loved to eat and drink, his lovely, little paunch was a validation of his zeal for life.

_In an intellectual sense, we all know that life is short. But how many of us actually live our day-to-day lives like we’re really going to die one day? What would you do differently if you could really appreciate the imminence of death? Do you need to have a near-death experience to truly feel the fragility of life? I don’t._

Red had told her once. And she got it. His motto to live life to the fullest was the one thing he took _very_ seriously.

Inspirational and unnerving.

“And since when do you have _friends_?” Liz sassed.

How come I have never heard of her? She wanted to ask, but refrained from doing so, there was still a lot of uncovered past between them. Maybe one day.

“Well, aren’t we _friends_ …Lizzie?” Red shot back with a bewildered expression and a sly smile. 

Liz giggled in response, softly shaking her head sideways. “Touché. But, sometimes I wonder what we are.”

She instantly regretted her impulsive choice of words and inwardly cringed, a faint blush colored her cheeks. When will she ever learn? That big mouth of hers often got her in a lot of trouble. It was too late to take it back now.

Red took a moment to muse it over and clasped his hands together, resting them on the table. “There is no need to label what we have. Our relationship cannot be demarcated in simple terms or shallow words. You mean far more than a friend ever could, Lizzie, if I had any that is,” he genuinely replied as his gaze held hers, never wavering.

Liz stilled her movements and stared back at him, ping ponging between his eyes, trying to decipher the transpiring, unspoken emotions.

“You and I...We are...Indefinable. A _grand_ moment in time.” Red elaborated upon seeing her puzzled look, hoping that he got his point across. She was his….everything.

“So this...” Liz waved a hand between them. “Is just, a _moment_ in time for you?” she asked in disbelieve.

Red let out a small, weary breath and took another sip of his tea. As brilliant as Lizzie may be at times, sometimes she was still naïve, pertinacious and selective about what she thought she heard, and what she took to heart.

Red clucked his tongue and softly smiled at her. “In my life…at my age, your perspective of time changes. Stolen moments are all I have…I once met this one legged fisherman, Juan Pablo on the tiniest island located just off the southwest coast of Formentera and all he talked about was how important it was to live in the moment, every day he told me...” he began to explain, re-living the moment he met Juan as the memory unfolded in front of his squinted eyes, emphasizing every phrase with his dexterous hands.  

_Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them._

Liz scoffed and rolled her eyes, interrupting another one of his preposterous fables. “Red, stop. You are not _that_ old. I would argue that you are in fact, more distinguished and wiser…at least a little,” she teased.

Red let out a rumble of laughter and nodded, not in the least upset that she didn’t want to hear another one of his adventures.

“Contrary to popular believe, not all older people are wise, Lizzie...”

He pursed his lips and worked his jaw. “You tend to get molded into a form, a shape, based on your previous life experiences. Not everyone needs to pass through a year of anguish in order to learn their life's lessons. There are numerous happy fools, wandering around, thinking that the sky is really blue.”  he finished with a satisfied smile.

Liz hung on his every word, even though, his anecdotes left her reeling at times when all she wanted was a straight answer, he still impressed her with his wisdom to practice what he preached. She was in awe of his intellect and prowess, let alone how he loved to express them so fondly. His body language and deft fingers spoke volumes.

Red undoubtedly was a master of his own craft and had the most life experience out of anyone she had ever met, bar none.

“But you do. Take them to heart,” she softly concluded. Their lives could indeed be hard, difficult at times and she could only imagine how it must have been for him. All those years on the run, living in the shadows, trying to do right by the small group of people he cared about. Hoping to uncover the truth.

Red shrugged his shoulder. “Sometimes. We are defined by our moments, and I take life one day at a time. Slowly working towards the future, without losing grip on what is occurring, right now. That is the path I chose. Or better yet, chose me, and I intend to have many more moments before I go.” he replied earnestly, with a straight face and narrowed eyes. The remorse dripping from his gravely voice. He had lived a life full of treasured moments and _regrets._ An ocean of memories, rippling in the back of his mind, etched on his heart and soul.

_It's easier to destroy a house than to build it._

Despite the heaviness and sudden turn in conversation, Liz felt that it was necessary. Unveiling the man underneath the mask was what she wanted most, and she had a better understanding of Raymond Reddington than anyone else, as he did of her. There were still a lot of questions left unanswered. So many questions she was afraid to ask. For now, she will lay it to rest. He was right, it was all about what happened in the present, and right now, it was time to celebrate his name day, the year of the Rat nonetheless. The same as George Washington, John F. Kennedy and William Shakespeare. How fitting 

Liz lifted her cup of tea and gave him a close-mouthed, dimpled smile. Her eyes fixated on his.

“Well then, in that case. Let’s toast. To moments,”

Red’s face visibly relaxed and produced his sweetest smile as they clanked their cups together.

“To moments.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am slowly adding the chapters over here..so i can continue the story on both sites. Reviews for those who have not read it before are always welcome. 
> 
> QUOTES AND FUN FACTS: 
> 
> Life seldom has more meaning to us than when someone we love dies and for us to appreciate the joy of love, we need to understand the anguish of pain. – Wise Words/me
> 
> Be still my beating heart, for a fire will melt the ice and fight of the cold that once penetrated your soul, and let the tear of feeling start. – Me 
> 
> He, who played with fire, was bound to get burned. – Tales of temptation/me
> 
> In an intellectual sense, we all know that life is short. But how many of us actually live our day-to-day lives like we’re really going to die one day? What would you do differently if you could really appreciate the imminence of death? Do you need to have a near-death experience to truly feel the fragility of life? I don’t. - Life is too short
> 
> Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them. - Dion Boucicault
> 
> It's easier to destroy a house than to build it. – No idea/old 
> 
> The year of the Rat is 1960 - The same as George Washington, John F. Kennedy, William Shakespeare and most importantly my mother ;-) - Chinese Zodiac


	3. Soulmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not wanting to be alone eats at the soul...Updated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NATASHA BEDINGFIELD - Soulmate
> 
> Incompatible, it don't matter though
> 
> 'cos someone's bound to hear my cry  
> Speak out if you do  
> You're not easy to find
> 
> Is it possible Mr. Loveable  
> Is already in my life?  
> Right in front of me  
> Or maybe you're in disguise
> 
> Here we are again, circles never end
> 
> How do I find the perfect fit  
> There's enough for everyone  
> But I'm still waiting in line
> 
> Who doesn't long for someone to hold  
> Who knows how to love you without being told
> 
> Somebody tell me why I'm on my own
> 
> If there's a soulmate for everyone

Both took a sip and deeply exhaled simultaneously. Her expression was one of wonder and pure, unadulterated pleasure as the liquid hit her taste buds and slowly glided down her throat.

 “Red, this tea is delicious. The right amount of sweet, earthy flavors and a little bit spicy. Very piquant,” Liz praised and took another swig. “What is in it? Ginger?” 

 “You don’t want me to answer that. Tantalising, isn’t it?” Red quickly responded with a tilted smile.

Liz’s face turned almost comical; eyebrows perched high on her forehead, the teacup pressed against her lips, shooting him a questionable, albeit dangerous glance over the rim.

“Nothing notorious, I assure you, Lizzie. Just something to give it a little extra _kick_. A surprise ingredient, commonly used as a truth serum. And some medical herbs,” he elaborated. 

Liz apprehensively glanced at the contents of her own cup, as if the answers were somehow hidden on the bottom, before lifting her eyes again to set on her partner in _crime,_ clearly not amused. She knew about B.B,and the blue pills. He was drinking it too, though. He wouldn’t have drugged it, would he?

His ridiculous grin and crow’s feet told her enough. He would.

Red lifted a hand to object to anything she was about to mutter or throw at him.

Lizzie’s volatile tendencies were both arousing and erotically frightening at the same time. He did not want to get on her bad side again, and he had a scar on the right side of his neck as a daily reminder of how fortunate he was to have survived her wrath. Yet, the prospect of a repeat performance was quite titillating, and it made his pulse quicken.

He really was a vile, twisted man, a shameless, well-versed paraphilia.

“Alcohol, Lizzie, and a minimal amount at that. Making tea is a true art form and the Chinese believe that liquor amplifies the medicinal effects of many natural herbs. It’s a marvelous 5000-year-old tradition to maintain a healthy life,” he reassured her.

Liz peered skeptically into her cup, but drank nonetheless. It really was delectable and she couldn’t even taste the alcohol.

“Don’t you instantly feel better after getting intoxicated, though? Wouldn’t that result in a placebo effect that has nothing to do with amplifying these so-called _herbs_?” she blatantly questioned.

Liz was not a firm believer in alternative medicine, nor was she opposed to the notion that it could help to some extent, but in her mind, this sounded ridiculous.

Red warmheartedly grinned and shrugged. “I guess over exuding the amounts might delude its purpose. But, for once, you might be right. That is a narrative I am not going to dispute.”

“Aren’t I usually?” Liz coyly shot back, sporting an ironic smirk, refilling their cups before he could extend the courtesy.

Red followed her movements with his eyes and slightly shook his head in amusement. Miss independent.

“Thank you and don’t overstate your natural prowess, Lizzie. It is very unbecoming. I hate to brag, but I never tire of being right,” he retorted with a certain air of bravado.

“Ah....and so the pot meets the kettle at last,” Liz mockingly rebuffed.                                                                                               

Red let out a deep belly laugh.  Those were his exact words spoken to The Cowboy. She was right, he was a hypocrite. As different he and Lizzie may have been, more often than not it felt like they were on the same wavelength. In sync.

Two peas in a pod. 

His low, roaring laughter was quite contagious, and Liz couldn't resist following suit, without having the slightest clue as to why it was so funny. The sound of  she and Red laughing together was the sweetest music ever heard.

“Is that why you sent Dembe over? To get me inebriated?” she asked after they had somewhat composed themselves, with the occasional chuckle still escaping their lips. 

“No. I asked Dembe to pick you up because that is what a gentleman does,” Red replied, his face soft and eyes promiscuous.

“You are anything but  _gentle_...” Liz playfully remarked.

Reds eyebrows almost reached the edge of his receding hairline at the obvious innuendo, and a sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “If you keep saying vindictive things like that, you might find out just how _ferocious_ I may become, _Lizzie,”_ he countered and tilted his head. _“_ When it comes to you, I am a veracious person.”

He was thoroughly enjoying the banter; it was like a well-rehearsed dance.  One he would never want to see end.

Liz’s face flushed at the implication, but stood her ground. Unwavering. “Are you trying to seduce me, _Red_?” she precariously dared, her lips parted and moist, treading the parochial line they drew, feeling more confident already.  Maybe the herbs had a side effect she wasn’t aware of.

What were lines in the sand good for anyway?

_With a breath of air, they disappear…_

Red’s eyes darkened significantly at the insinuation and set firmly on hers. “Well look at you, all of a sudden prurient minded, Mrs. Robinson. I can assure you that if I did, it would be an _extremely_ time-consuming…. _meticulous_ Milango,"  he drawled out, his tone smoky as his voice dropped an octave. 

Liz desperately tried not to choke on her tea as her eyes bulged out of her sockets. Acute vertigo. Maybe she had overstepped the invisible line completely with both feet and jumped straight into the deep end.

The low vibrations bore through her core and made her whole body tingle as the two of them indulging in the horizontal tango flashed in front of her eyes and she averted his penetrating gaze at any cost.

Slow, _very_ slow. Time- consuming.  Vigorous. Meticulous. Lascivious and primal.

_Be carful what you wish for. The devil you know may have the sweetest tongue but it’s full of deceit, hidden under the brightest angel wings._

Red was very compelling, exhilarating, and sexy, and in spite of her, Liz felt drawn to him, like a magnet.

From all the callous words that tumbled out of her mouth, those were the ones she let fall. There was no such thing as merely asking a question.  He always answered honestly, and she never knew how far he would go.

His unpredictability she loathed and loved.

_‘Anticipation, delayed gratification, and eventually…Euphoria, Elizabeth,’_ he would leisurely whisper in her ear as he disrobed her in many unwelcome dreams.

Liz felt another wave of heat creeping up her neck, reddening her cheeks and ears. Her treacherous, clammy hands carelessly began to tremble, rattling her cup.  She had been aware of the fact that Red was _excessively_ experienced in that department. Something she didn’t want to contemplate nor disregard.

Suddenly everything that was said in the past held a new meaning, and various thoughts began to catapult through her mind; could they? Would they? Should they? Was he merely testing the water? If her physical reaction was any indication, she wanted him, right now, and perhaps he wanted her too?

‘ _Tread carefully, Liz, or you might drown in your own presumptions,’_ her inner voice warned.

She was slowly gravitating towards his warmth, breathing faster, and her heart elevated to such a rapid speed it might explode if she didn’t calm down soon.

Oh god, why did she even go there anyway?

Red licked his lips with the tip of his tongue, savoring the taste of the tea, imagining if Lizzie would be sweeter, even better than Petty Officer Virginia Sherman.

He lazily leered at her stricken expression and obvious discomfort as her eyes carelessly darted around the room.

Maybe it was too much too soon.

“No need to be frightened, Lizzie. I am just showing a lovely young woman a good time. Rest assured, I only have the purest intentions in mind,”  he added with a smile as sharp as a blade and a face as calm as a mask.

He wasn’t exactly lying to her face. Red enjoyed flirting with her, and yes, even though  his warped mind wanted to do the most ungodly things to her, or better yet, let her do them to him, he would never push her for anything or even touch her inappropriately. One of his overindulged fantasies included handcuffs, Vaseline and a belt.

Sam would turn in his grave or beat him to a pulp if he was still alive.

If he wouldn’t burn in hell for his debauched actions, he would certainly burn for having salacious thoughts about Lizzie.

Liz was grateful for Red’s judicious rescue and surprised by her own lewd behavior. Maybe it was not all as innocent as she portrayed it to be. She knew that logically, she should have been relieved. Safe. She got the confirmation that he really wasn’t interested in her romantically. It was all still just a game to him. But, rather than feeling relieved, she felt embarrassed, empty, and shockingly disappointed.

She put on her bravest smile and bit her bottom lip. “By getting me drunk?” Liz asked again, eyeing him warily, still blushing from the connotations of Red’s crude words.

Red raised his cup and chucked it all at once before setting it back on the table with a thud.  “That’s a choice I leave up to you," he offered with a faint, slow smile that clung like an edge of light to his lips as he refilled both cups.

Kimberly came back with a solemn expression on her face, trailing a bus cart full of dishes in front of her.

“Ah, just in time. I am famished," Red said, patting his belly.

Kim ogled Red, ignoring Liz completely and set one of the dishes on his plate.

“I made this especially for you, _Raymond_. Enjoy and let me know if you need anything else,” she purred, standing too close for comfort, smiling like a Cheshire cat or a cat in heat.  

"I am sure that we will. Thank you, Kimberly," Red dryly replied, clearly unaffected by her over buoyant charm.

With one last dirty look thrown over her shoulder in Liz’s direction, Kim left, swaying her hips more than was natural as she strutted away.  

Liz squinted her eyes at the woman and recognised the displayed emotions from a mile away.  After all, she had frequently experienced them. Kim was jealous. Jealous of her and Red. Marking her territory just short of peeing on him, which Liz found peculiar, given the wedding ring on the woman’s finger.

She shook her head and reluctantly decided to let it go. She refused to let _that_ woman affect her mood in anyway, and glanced at the amount of bamboo baskets presented on the food cart next to them instead.

“I thought you had already ate?” Liz questioned. There was no way that two people could eat all this.

“I did, however my appetite is of _enormous_ proportion and my ravenous _hunger_ can never be stilled. I have these cravings…”

Liz zoned out, gazing at his mouth as he spoke, and eyed him apprehensively, wondering if every word that parted his lips were going to set her off. How could she not think about his enormous... 

“…nourishment is of vast importance. Please do dive in. I suggest you start with this one," Red recommended, pointing to one odd looking dish presented on her plate, oblivious to her state of mind and irreversibly pulling her out of her scandalous thought process.

It appeared to be some sort of mangled croquette.

“What is it?”

“Shelled and  deep fried Balut. It’s a delicacy. They are not often served with tea, or in this restaurant, but I asked Ling to prepare it for you.”

Liz slowly raised the Balut with her chopsticks, poising it in front of her mouth, when she saw Red tracking her movement with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Aren’t you having any?” she asked, ready to take a bite, looking a little bit distrustfully at the food when his upper lip twitched.

Red shook his head in response and popped one of the other dumplings in his mouth.  “I've already had more than enough to last a lifetime.” he contested through a mouthful.

Liz nodded and put the whole dish in her mouth, chewing on it once, twice, before she almost choked. She started coughing and frantically searched for her napkin.

Red handed her the one from his lap and laughed so hard it would probably have hurt his face if he kept it up any longer.

At least she hoped it would.

Liz hurled and unceremoniously spit the horrendous croquette into the napkin.

“Red, that was atrocious…awful!” she bellowed, resisting the urge to hurl again and drunk a large amount of tea to wash away the horrendous taste. 

Red's laughter died down to a mere chuckle and he held his hands up in surrender. “I apologize, Lizzie. I couldn’t resist giving you a taste of fertilized duck eggs.  It’s truly a unique dining experience, don’t you think?” he asked as he tilted his head, looking no guiltier than a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar, reaching for another one.

Liz quietly fumed and crossed her arms before the urge to throw the napkin in his face would become too grand to resist.

He should have thanked his lucky stars that it was his birthday or else she would have stabbed him with his own chopstick.

“I assure you that the rest is more pleasant,” he insisted and dropped another piece of food one her plate, somewhat resembling a normal dumpling.

Liz glanced at it, raised an eyebrow, and let her eyes slither back to Red, who was still smiling, making it hard for her to stay mad.

“Don’t you trust me?” Red asked innocently, like a puppy waiting for his master to pet him on the back and tell him good boy for bringing the stick back. 

Unfortunately, Red’s stick was a boomerang that kept hitting her in the face. Liz should really learn how to duck in time.  

She shook her head with a tight smile. “With my life, just not with my food. Not after that hellish experience,” she sneered with a disgusted look and narrowed her eyes, pointing towards his napkin.

Red bobbed his head back and forth, contemplating his next, carefully constructed sentence and pursed his lips. “I promise you, this will be a treat for your taste buds. And before you ask what it is, I have no earthly idea. If my memory serves me correctly, you aren't overly fond of anchovies?”     

Liz nodded with a small, fleeting frown, impressed that he remembered something that insignificant. “That’s an understatement. I can’t stand them,” she grunted out. 

“Good. There is none of that in any of the dishes. I made sure of that,"  Red notified with a satisfied grin and then, out of the blue, reached over to adjusted the chopsticks between her right fingers.  

Both felt a small electric discharge as his calloused fingertips brushed over her soft digits and he stopped for a second, his gaze transfixed on Lizzie’s face as she silently gasped. Heart rates rose. Stomachs clenched. Pupils dilated. Lips parted. 

Neither of them dared to make a sound, blink, nor breathe as they unconsciously drifted closer, only a few inches apart.

Liz’s eyes darted down to his lips before traveling up his face to the dark pools of his fire rimmed orbs when all of the sudden, Red cleared his throat and with a lightning speed settled back in his own chair.

_‘What the hell was that?’_

For a moment there she thought that he was about to kiss her and she rapidly blinked her eyes, trying to get some moisture back, swallowing an imaginary lump.

Red clicked the tips of his chopsticks to get her attention, demonstrating how it was done, seemingly unfazed by what had occurred a few seconds ago, when she clearly felt the effect it had on both of them. So, there was a mutual attraction after all. A question plagued her mind; _why did he feel the need to hide it?_

“Ling would have a field day if she saw the American way of handling her precious chopsticks. When I was a boy she regularly hit me on the fingers with them until I learned the proper etiquette. She can be quite relentless when it comes to certain traditions,” he explained and went back to eating his dumplings, making all kinds of satisfied noises in the back of his throat after each one.  

Liz adorably smiled at his childlike exuberance and ate every one that he dropped on her plate. “Thank you for the warning,” she said, momentarily imagining Red to be that smaller, blond, juvenile boy dining with her. 

She bet that he was quite a handful, even back then.

/

/

/

The rest of the night was spent with laughter, food, and cockamamie stories about the adventures of Raymond Reddington and his friend Dembe, even some about her and her rebellious college days. It was comfortable and honestly felt like a date to her. The best date Liz had been on so far, with the only man she would have accepted it from. The Chinese ‘herbal’ tea had helped her loosen up significantly, and she was becoming quite inebriated. Judging by the  glazed eyes of her partner, she wasn’t the only one affected by tonight’s events. The atmosphere around them had changed - she could feel it when she looked at him.

/                                                                  

/

/ 

“Red, have you ever thought about sharing this moment in time with someone significant?” Liz tentatively probed. She was curious. She had not seen him with a significant other since Naomi. Not if she didn't count the numerous ‘girlfriends’ he had over the past two decades. 

Red’s forehead creased at the brazen question. “Lizzie, I am pretty sure  that I am sharing it with you,” he  replied with a conspicuous smile.

“No. I mean...yes, but I meant with someone special…” Liz tried again when he misconstrued her question.

“Oh, I think you are very special…” Red countered the same way he did when they first met.

Liz felt ingénue in that instant, and was seriously considering smacking him upside the head for not humoring her with an honest answer.

“I mean, do you believe that you will ever find someone to share it with, on an intimate level? You know, in the future?”

Red’s way of redirecting was often more fruitful. Maybe he was losing his edge with Lizzie, or maybe he wanted to. Unguarded. Honest. Mortal.

Just the two of them, face-to face.

He bit his lower lip and worked his jaw. “My incongruous way of living does not permit a committed, romantic relationship, Lizzie. I couldn’t do that to my significant other while I am still a fugitive at large. I can’t atone for my sins. I can’t offer any stability. I wouldn’t have the ability to conduct a healthy relationship.” 

The confusion and distaste gracing Liz's face could be read like an open book.

“But I thought Madeline was your ex?” she asked. Even though she did not adore the woman, Red seemed to have a fond reminiscent of the two faced…

Red chuckled and nodded.  “In a way, I guess she was. But real love weighs much heavier on the heart. I could die at any given day, Lizzie. I wouldn’t want to burden my significant other with that realization.”

The assertion and uncanny comprehension of how candid that was tugged at her heart. The truth hurts sometimes. “That is equally sad as it is understandable. But, we could all die at any given moment, Red. I could be hit by a bus tomorrow for all I know," Liz countered with a sad smile, well aware of the fact that in his life, it was almost a guarantee.

Staring death in a face was a daily occurrence; she could have lost him many times over. However, if she had surmised anything about Red, it was that he was a survivor.

An adaptor.

A chameleon.

She was sure that he would grow to be a very old man, even if he wasn't.

“But, you do believe in it?”

“Believe in what, Lizzie?”         

“That kind of love?” she asked.

Red considered diverting the direction in which this was going, but then again, they never had this kind of sit down before, and might never have it again.

What’s the harm in getting exposed to the person who knew you best? 

“You can’t help who you fall for. It just happens, but that doesn’t mean you have to pursue it. My past follows me. An ominous shadow that clings to the soul with no tendencies to ever leave. I have made my peace with it.”

Liz swallowed a heavy lump, afraid that if she didn’t, tears would fall at the desolate realization that he believed he might never be loved again, held again.

Well, she cared. A _lot_. If only he saw it too.

“Well, you shouldn’t. I am sure that there is someone out there for you, Red. No one can guarantee a tomorrow. Your past shouldn’t prevent you from having someone in your life. You have paid your dues, redeemed yourself,” she foretold.

Red’s could feel her eyes still on him. He could feel a current of frustration and impatience that made his skin prickle. She was precious, truly something else.

“You really believe in that don't you?” he tenderly asked, levelling with her.

Liz tilted her head, her expression softened. “In what?”

“That the one is out there...the soul mate, your better half? Did you know that Zeus split us in half so we could us to spend our lives yearning for the other half to complete us?”

Liz nodded. “I don’t believe in the biblical version. But, I thought I had found that…with Tom. Now, I know that it wasn’t what I wanted after all. No matter how hard I tried, I kept parts of me hidden and so did...well everything was a lie in the end. And it scares me, the prospect of trusting another person with my heart again, to impose or burden him with my life. Let alone having you as a secret I could never share. But, I also know that if I don’t at some point, I will wake up one day on my death bed, realizing that I am about to die alone.”

Red shook his head. “Not everything was a lie, Lizzie. I believe that he loved you in his own way. You fell in love with the man he portrayed to be, no matter what was hidden underneath. And you’ll never be alone. You have me,” he added with a fleeting smile.

Liz eyebrows shot up and she looked physically upset, instantly losing her appetite. “I can’t believe that you are defending him. And as much as I value  you, Red, as much as I hold our friendship dear, it is not the same. We are not romantically involved.” _'But we could be,_ ' she wanted to finish.

She was starting to believe in it. The possibility of being more than _just_ friends.

_Take a leap of faith, swim the deepest ocean, jump of a cliff, dare to live – what’s there to lose?_

“No, we are not,” Red agreed with a longing gaze and solemn upturn of his lips. “I am not defending Tom, Lizzie, but I can imagine him falling for you, regardless of his direct instructions of just pretending to be in love. If you spend enough time with a wonderful person, you can’t help it. Love happens in spite of you. 

“So you say, yet it wasn’t enough,” she argued, negating the wonderful things Red was telling her.

_Alcohol makes for loose tongue, not for a better understanding._

“No. Relationships need work, effort, communication, intimacy, and much more. However, in the end it is well worth it. That is, if it is with the right person,” Red countered.

“Aren’t you surprisingly romantic?” Liz praised with a sly grin, as if she had just figured out a part of him kept hidden from the rest of the world. 

Red flashed her one similar. “I’ve read some novels in my day. I know what’s it like to fall in love. To be in love,” he expressed. And he did. He was looking love straight in the face, begging for acceptance, hoping to be seen, afraid of the possibilities of the road not taken.

_Never_ to be taken again.

_There are few that understand love and loss more than I._

“You do? When?” Liz jested lightly, afraid of what he was implying, afraid that she would crumple under the weight of his words, if they were not meant for her.

It left her feeling hollow. 

Exposed.

_Those who choose to be blind will never learn to see._

Red outwardly grimaced, a twitch beneath his left eye giving him away.

Liz misconstrued the situation; of course he had been before - and lost it all.

“Sorry, Red, it wasn’t my…how we suddenly got to this conversation on your birthday is beyond me,” she apologized.

Red’s reassuring soft chuckle let her know that it was okay. No harm done. 

“Drink your tea.  It will help you feel better and forget all about it,” he suggested, beckoning towards her cup.

“What if I don’t want to forget about it? About this? It gives me a perspective of your mind, I thought didn’t exist,” Liz divulged. She wanted to know _him_. All of him.

They were such similar creatures, she and Red, both wounded by their pasts and surrounded by concrete emotional walls. Both very private people, trying to find a way in.

“You can take the girl out the FBI, but you can’t take the FBI out of the girl.” Red shook his head and played with the rim of the teacup, brushing the infinitive circle with the tip of his right middle finger and leaned back in his chair. 

Round and Round.

In slow circles.

Just like them. 

“Woman,” Liz corrected with one raised eyebrow.

“Yes. A very beautiful one at that," Red stipulated as he slowly took a large sip and resisted the urge to wink.

“Red, are you flirting?” Liz questioned with a shy smile.

“Must be the tea.  It loosens the tongue and weakens the mind,” Red replied with a cocky grin. “Maybe we should call it a night before the truth comes out.”

A faint frown appeared between her eyebrows, her mouth transforming into a blank, open expression. “What truth?” Liz asked with a lovely dusting of pink adorning her glowing cheeks.

“That you secretly find me attractive as well,” Red drawled, his voice hardly above a whisper.

It made her hair stand on end and sent a shiver down her spine. “That’s no secret,” Liz whispered back.

Red’s momentary look of surprise almost made her laugh as he peered into her soul for any indication of deceit. The deep sapphire blue of her glorious eyes gave everything away and only spoke the truth.

There were moments like this when she left him speechless.

The words she longed to say were left unspoken.

_Take me home, Red, and I’ll prove it to you._

Anticipation and trepidation. Two grueling emotions left in an endless inner battle. The fear was gripping. If only there was a simple out. Just pack up and leave.

Liz broke the intense gaze after the stifling silence proved to be too much to endure after merely a second or two and focused on her scar. The past followed her too. “I envy you,” Liz declared. 

“Why is that?” Red questioned as he drank.

“You have the ability to check out whenever you’d like. Go wherever you want, whenever you want…consequences be damned,” she elaborated, not daring to glance at him yet, afraid of what she might see.

“And you can’t?” Red interjected.

“No,” Liz breathed out. 

Red intertwined his fingers. “Lizzie, I would give anything to be able to be a free man again. Stable, normal, boring, even if for just one day,” he expressed with a warm smile, finding her eyes again.

“I wouldn’t object to getting out of my life for one day. Sounds good to me. But you could take your jet and leave at any given moment, without looking back. Leave it all behind. You have the luxury and the power to do so, Red. I don’t…” Liz brought forth, a little bit defensive.

Red swallowed an imaginary lump in is throat, momentarily lost in thoughts. She had no idea how true those words ranged and hit home. It was exactly what he planned to do. The blacklist was coming to an end and he was no longer needed. He was well aware that immunity was long off the table and the government would never give up their manhunt, not until he was chained up and forgotten. There was no ‘normal’ life waiting for him on the other end. Leaving was never the issue.  Leaving her was going to be the hardest thing he would ever do.

His last selfless act.

The one that counted.

The one that would hurt the most.

“…your suit collection costs more than my whole apartment. Red, are you even listening?”  Liz, asked, waving a hand in front of his blank stare.

Red sighed and scratched the back of his head before his eyes bore into hers. His mask back in place. Closed. “It looks attractive from the outside, lizzie. If I could, I would trade places with you,” he spoke gravely with a soft, sad, smile.

Liz was not as observant as she normally was when tipsy and missed the emotions hidden behind his words. “Oh please! You wouldn’t last one day as me.”

“Oh Sweetheart, I think it is the other way around. You wouldn’t last a second as me,” Red shot back.

Liz pursed her lips, her eyes squinting and snorted. “Life must be a constant pain when you are Raymond Reddington.” she retorted, leaning back in her seat.

“Not always, but it can be,” Red answered with a tilt of the head.

“Well try being a woman for one day...no worse...a female federal agent...the endless grooming, the late work hours, exercising, caring for my dog, the list is endless. I barely have time for myself.”

Red shook his head in disbelief. “Make time, Lizzie. Life is too short to waste a single day. If you don’t like your life, change it. Share it with someone." He hoped that one day someone would take care of her as he had. Love her as much as he did. Although that was simply _Impossible_.

No one could.

“If only it were so easy…I have obligations, responsibilities, you. I have no room for someone else at the moment,” Liz countered and crossed her arms, looking through the blended windows at the people strolling on the curb outside.

“Neither do I,” Red attested.

Liz’s gaze wandered back to his green saddened eyes. “You make time for me.”

Red nodded. “Yes. That I do.” Always will.

She was worth every second of his time and if it were up to him, even his last moments.

“If only,” Liz sadly whispered. “We really are stuck with each other. At the end of the day, we are who we are.”

“Change is never easy, Lizzie.  I would love nothing more than to be able to sleep without waking up in the middle of the night. To have some piece and quiet. To be regular for a moment. I chose this life...you didn’t. You could walk away at any moment. I could make you disappear in 60 seconds,“ Red kindly offered.

“As tempting as the offer may be, I enjoy my job. Most days. Besides, would you really want to be left alone to work with Ressler? I speak only with Donald Ressler,” Liz chided, mocking Red’s deep tone of voice and shook her head with a cheerful smile. “No. That doesn’t sound right.”

Red flashed her a dimpled smirk and let out a chuckle. “You could always take a leave of absence to pursue a career of comedian,” he suggested, contemplating his words as a grimace twisted his face. “On the other hand, please stay and save me from that.”

Liz laughed. “No worries, Red. I will always save you from _Donald.”_  
  
She raised her cup. “To you, Raymond Reddington, may this year be your year.” 

Red’s eyes twinkled and mirrored hers. “To us, Lizzie, and what the future may bring.”

Both were so enthralled in their own pleasant cocoon of joy and comfort that neither one of them noticed the two women observing them, hiding in the shadows.

Intrusive, curious, and one up to no good.

 

 -----

 

“Ma, I know what you're thinking, and no!” Kim hissed in her mother’s ear, when she saw that mischievous look in her eye and mysterious smile. She was well aware of what happened when her mother got an idea.

Her mother held a finger to her lips and hushed her daughter.

“Dear daughter, I know over 200 words for yes and fortunately, none for no,” Ling argued with a definitive tone of voice.

Kim, crossed her arms and squared her shoulders, trying to intimidate her mother. 

“Mother, we are not in China…you have lived in America for over 40 years now, and I forbid you to interfere!”  she exclaimed.

Ling ignored her daughter and continued to observe the lovely couple who appeared to be enthralled with one another. Laughing and drinking.

“Look at them Kim, they don’t see what is right in front on them,” Ling softly rebuked, almost teary eyed. She had not seen Raymond this happy in a very long time. She recognised that gleam in his eye, the same expression her late husband had on his face when he looked at her. True love. _Soulmates._

Kim, was getting impatient and tried to get her mother’s attention.

“Maaaa, Raymond is not in love with her. She is young enough to be his daughter,” she scoffed and tapped her foot to make her point. 

Ling sighed and shook her head, glancing at her daughter and back at Liz and Raymond. “Kim, I love you, but don’t be such a bigot. I raised you better than that. Trust me child, I recognize love when I see it. 

Ling was not born yesterday, and knew that her oldest daughter had motives of her own; even though she had been married for a long time, she had a soft spot for Raymond. The one that got away. She had tried to set them up once, but Raymond did not see Kim in that light, she was like family to him. A sister.

“Raymond has been talking about her for years. His sweet Elizabeth, and now look, she is right here! Don’t you see, Kim? _Fate_ has brought them here, and it is nice to see him smiling with a woman again since Luli, don’t you agree?” she tried again. Kim should move on already. Rejection hurt, but she was happy with Peter and he was a good man too. Her daughter just did not want anyone else to be with Raymond.  

Kim shook her head in defeat and shrugged her shoulders. “I still don’t think this is a good idea,” she tried to argue and knew that was time to give up. When her mother had made up her mind, she was  relentless.

_‘What happens when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force? My mother,'_  she thought, rolling her eyes.

Ling was having none of it. “Oh, please stop being jealous and shush. Let Mama handle matters of the heart. Didn’t you hear that Raymond plans to leave soon? How could he when the woman of his dreams is right here?” She pointed toward Liz. “We both know him better than that. He will never find himself worthy of love.”

But he was worthy and she knew exactly what needed to happen in order to make him stay and set her plan into motion.

“Now, be a dear and clean their table, please,” Ling ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUOTES AND FUN FACTS:
> 
> B.B. [Bernard Babbitt] - In 2x03, Red slipped him some Viagra LOL “Has the little man been falling down on the job? It's a miracle drug, not so much for a glutton with a bum heart, however. But look on the bright side... you'll die with a marvelous erection.”
> 
> Mrs. Robinson – from the movie The Graduate (1967)– eh basically a dude having an affair with an older woman – here it is the other way around ;-) but he said: "Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me. Aren't you?" 
> 
> Petty Officer Virginia Sherman – In 2x10, Red said to Braxton: "I never thought I'd enjoy having anything in my mouth as much as Petty Officer Virginia Sherman.” 
> 
> The ‘Herbal’ tea - “Alcohol has been used medicinally in China for more than 5,000 years and its use and infusions - from snakes for virility to roses for complexion - were recorded in prescriptions 2,000 years ago in the first text of traditional Chinese medicine” Qian Hai, a professor with the Shanghai University of Traditional Chinese Medicine. 
> 
> Soulmates explanation, pretty interesting - (w)(w)(w)(dot) the-soulmate-site (dot) (c)(o)(m) (slash) soulmate-theory (dot) (h)(t)(m)(l) 
> 
> Paraphilia - (also known as sexual perversion and sexual deviation) is the experience of intense sexual arousal to atypical objects, situations, or individuals. Eh in Red’s case just a case of sexual fetishism – BDSM, role-play and what now ;-) 
> 
> prurient minded - lascivious thoughts.
> 
> Those who choose to be blind will never learn to see. – for the Darth Vader’s lovers out there.


	4. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want my cake and eat it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: See previous chapters. 
> 
> Special Thanks: To my sweetie pies jadenanne7 & silhouettedredoblivion girls every time is fun and I learn more and Literary Bitca a friend and wonderful talented writer, I highly recommend reading Hung up. Of course to my sisters Seb , love you all. X.

  **Whitney Houston & George Michael - If I Told You That**

_Now tell me how you feel_

_If I told you that I have feelings for you?_

_And would it be so wrong to say what's on my mind?_

_I'm sorry I have to,_

 

_We were friends but with time_

_What I feel deep inside for you has changed_

_But I'd give up on love, if I thought_

_That it was untrue for you_

_I know that we are just friends_

_But what if I decide to bring something in?_

_I hope it won't offend the trust we have_

_'Cause I don't want this to end._

_If you think that we'll lose what we have_

_Then I'd just rather stay the same_

_'Cause I don't want to choose_

_Between two of the most precious things to me_

_If we take this chance_

_And extend to each other, romance_

_And I hope it would be_

_The right thing for you and me,_

_Would you be there for me?_

_Could you dare to hold me?_

_Will my feelings leave me?_

_Lonely, if I told you?_

 

/

/

  

“Oh, before I forget, I brought you something,” Liz said, rifling through the plastic bag on the floor and placing its contents on the center of the table.

Red glanced at the hand-sized white box and back at Lizzie, his expression unreadable. Perplexed. For the second time tonight, words failed him.

She never ceased to amaze him. 

Liz nervously ran her fingers through her hair and nibbled on her bottom lip, waiting for him to make a move. 

Instead she was greeted with silence and filled with trepidation. 

What if he hated the idea? There must have been a reason why Red had not celebrated his birthday up until this moment. 

Her hands began to fidget on their own accord and she shrugged.  “I know it's not much ...”  She started to apologize, but was cut off by Red’s right hand on top of hers, brushing his thumb over the crest of her knuckles in a soothing motion.

However insignificant the contact might have been to others, the warmth of it spread through her like wildfire and sent a thrill down her spine.

The effects that the alcohol combined with his touch had on her abilities to form clear syllables irritated her.

She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from uttering or doing anything imprudent.

Thankfully, an adorably goofy smile spread over his face and he reassuringly squeezed her hand.

“Thank you, Lizzie.” Red softly spoke, releasing his hold to open her present.

It revealed a perfect, albeit little melted, red velvet cupcake with white frosting.

He was in awe; the last time he received anything resembling a birthday cake was decades ago.

From his daughter.

_“Look at what I made for you, Daddy,” she boasted with a bright sparkle in her green eyes and a toothy grin, showing off her small sticky fingers to prove her point._

Crinkles of pride appeared on his smooth face.

_“I did it all by myself, Daddy. From scratch. Do you want to know how?” she enthusiastically asked, reciting the baking process her mother taught her before he could reply and dragging him to the kitchen to look at her creation. “One day I am going to be the world’s greatest baker.”_

A faded memory never to be forgotten. 

He bet she would have been the best, his little overachiever, and wished for nothing more than to relive that exact moment all over again. 

Just once.

As if once would be enough.

_Where there is great love, there is always wishes._

His eyes began to prickle and his stomach tightened. Heart fluttered. Buried feelings now blatantly exposed before him.

He didn’t think the possibility of loving this woman more than he already did could exist.

Everyday spent with Lizzie proved him wrong.

Would it ever stop?

Would merely existing be enough?

A loveless life was nothing to look forward to.

Lost in thought, Red got distracted by the woman who had captivated his affections when she produced another item from the bag and stuck it into the top of the cupcake.

“You didn’t think I would forget now, did you?” 

Red quietly shook his head, humor quirking his lips as he stared at the red number 5 candle.

He had no idea what to expect when he extended an invitation for her to join him for dinner and was pleasantly surprised when she accepted.

The fact that she was here was the only gift he desired this evening.

This was just the icing on the cake.

“So, how does it feel to be fifty...?“ Liz began.

“Not any different from last year,” Red interjected.  He didn’t even want to consider his age, and he certainly did not mentally feel like a man in his late fifties.

Only, the abhorrent stranger’s weary face staring back at him in the mirror might have disagreed.

All he saw was a damaged, middle-aged man at the end of his rope.

To him, it was an incomprehensible and mysterious wonder that Lizzie found him to be attractive when she had more appealing, younger men to choose from.

At least he surmised as much through their coded flirtation, and however implausible it may have been for many, he would accept it with a great deal of dignity and humility, regardless of not feeling remotely deserving of it.

 _Beauty is in the eye of the beholder._

“I know I don’t look my age, Lizzie, but I have not been 5 years old in many moons,” he amusingly noted with a tilt of the head, “Is that your perception of me? A man child?”

Liz dimpled smile was a bright ray of light in the midst of the darkest night.

“I bought the cupcake on our way over here. Unfortunately the store only had one candle left,” Liz paused, twirling her empty cup, “Besides it’s closer to your actual age anyway, so if the shoe fits...” she teased. 

His response was nothing short of a mouthwatering lopsided grin creasing his handsome face, the mischievous twinkle in his sea-green eyes adding to his boyish charm.

She remembered how much Red enjoyed the cupcakes Aram had bought for her 31st birthday and expected this one to be better.

In fact, she had gone through great lengths and asked Dembe to call the owner of his favorite bakery to retrieve it.

After-hours, nonetheless.

Only the best for Raymond Reddington. 

“Shit! I think I might have misplaced the lighter,” she informed, rummaging through the bag once again, coming up empty, “Wait a second while I check my jacket.”

Red reached across the table to stop her from drawing herself up. “There is no need,” he divulged, producing a box of matchsticks from his suit jacket.

 _‘Of course, Red and his illegal cigars.’_ Liz hated the health hazards, but damn her if he didn’t look enticing smoking them.

“Allow me to do the honors.”  She snatched the pack from his hand, careful not to touch him in the process.

A repeat performance would leave her reeling and her resolve could only take so much before she would snap and drag him across the table.

Striking the red-tipped match against the box sparked a flash of flame, momentarily illuminating her face as she lit the candle.

It was remarkable how chemicals and friction generated fire.

The one element that brought them together.

The beginning of their journey.

The law of chemical affinity.

It reminded her of something her father recounted from Ann Landers when she asked what real love was like.

_‘Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses.’_

She did not understand what her dad meant back then, but her learning curve throughout life had made her wiser, and with an apparent reflection far beyond her years it could finally be acknowledged in full.

 _For we have a better grasp of ‘words’ experienced than sophisticated phrases spoken._

Red’s ubiquitous influence in her life had left a heavy mark on her heart. Four letters forever tattooed on her soul could never describe what they had.

It didn’t even come close to conveying the unspoken feelings between them.

Their connection exceeded the simplicity of - _Love._

The English vocabulary _truly_ was a piss poor language.

Liz snapped out of her dream-state once she realized Red was about to blow the candle out, and in reflex shot her hand out to stop him.

His lips almost touched her fingers as a puff of warm air escaped his mouth and fluttered across the delicate skin.  It made her arm tingle and the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

Her treacherous intenerated body was ferociously reacting to his presence.

There was no escaping it anymore.

Red’s pursed lips and questionable expression flitting across his face presented a lovely, distractive image, and she became distinctly aware of a desire to look at him again and again.

The heat of the flame licked her scarred palm and she quickly retracted her hand to rub the sensitive skin.

Liz almost cringed in embarrassment for her rash decision, trying to come up with a credible story for doing so. 

“I believe it is customary to make a wish first,” she reasoned, barely saving herself from spilling the real importance of what the fire meant to her.

To them.

For a split second, Red caught a glimpse of hesitation in her eyes and instinctively knew it was about more than an ancient Greek tradition or superstitious beliefs.

He momentarily closed his own eyes and mused it over, trying to formulate a wish in his head.

Conversely his rational thinking made it hard to even come up with one.

_Magic was merely an overindulged illusion._

As if the gods had the power to grant them. Were it true, his life would have been different, but then again...

 _‘What’s the harm?’_ He persuaded himself. If this made Lizzie happy, he would love nothing more than to oblige and contribute.                     

Red re-opened his eyes, peering beneath hooded lids directly into Liz’s warm, glazed orbs, and with a single elongated breath slowly blew the light of life out, leaving the wish to be carried away with the smoke and up in the air.

“Happy birthday, Red.” 

 

\---

 

Liz studied his features for a drawn out minute. “You don’t want it?” she asked after he made no attempt to eat the cupcake. 

Red rubbed his stomach. “Maybe later...I am over-full from dinner.” It was a semi-pathetic excuse, but he did not have it in him to disclose the real reason why his stomach was tied in knots.

No, he had mixed emotions about what he had to do - about the person he could not be for her.

His real wish was never to come true.

The last thing on his mind was the bittersweet taste of goodbye.

Liz’s looked apprehensively at Red.

The man she knew devoured food as if his life depended on it.

She had never seen him go through a plethora of emotions in one evening before and had trouble pinning him down.

“You can have it if you’d like,” Red offered in an attempt to derail her train of thought.

His defenses were low and she might see right through him.

Even in her current state of mind, Lizzie remained highly observant, albeit a little unfocused.

Liz’s face softened in an instant. “No, thank you. I got it for you,” she politely declined, her piercing blues fixated on his before shifting to the cake.

“How about we share?” Red suggested, pushing the cupcake in her direction.

It was as if the cake was glaring at her ...whispering ‘eat me’... or maybe it was the alcohol talking.

Either way, it was very tantalizing…

“Don’t mind if I do,” Liz responded, carefully pulling the candle out, peeling its paper case back and taking a large bite.  

She moaned at the first taste of velvet, moist cake and unconsciously licked the corners of her lips. “Oh my god, you have no idea what you’re missing.”

But he did.  Red was poignantly aware of what he was missing in his life and it was not the cake.

Lizzie looked remarkably adorable and incredibly sexy with a small glob of icing on her nose. It was tempting to reach over and taste it...to lick it off with a swift swipe of his tongue.

How would she react if he did?

“So, are you going to tell me what you wished for?” Liz asked, slowing down her voracious consumption of the pastry.

Red shook his head. “That is not the way it works, Sweetheart,” he informed, and drank the rest of his lukewarm tea.

Liz scoffed, eying him curiously. “Raymond Reddington, a man of many secrets. Must be _really_ important if you aren’t willing to share it with a _friend_ …” she coaxed with a sly grin, unwilling to give up.

Red quirked an eyebrow.  “ _Friends_ also respect each other's privacy,”  he countered.

Liz’s frivolous expression foretold that the subject wasn’t dropped, but for the time being, she seemed to be more interested in the cupcake she was currently nibbling on than a fruitless attempt to coerce an answer out of him.

Red was also almost certain that he heard her mutter something oddly familiar…

"Hypocrite."

How could he even begin to explain his heart’s wish? _  
_

Red peered outside, watching a lovely young couple passing by, kissing and cuddling.

That is what he wanted for her.

Sadly, the life of the Average Joe was something he could never quite grasp.

Never did, never would.

It weighed him down, kept him up at night. Honor. Duty. Responsibilities.

He felt responsible for everything and nothing all at once.

No, it was not easy being Raymond Reddington. 

If only he could turn back time. Push the reset button and start over. Meet Lizzie in another life, another time.

Would things be different?

Better or worse?

The path was chosen and set; he had to see it through to the end.      

He shook the disturbing thoughts away and stared at the beautiful blues in front of him.  They were glazed over, buzzed. Lizzie was positively radiant and 100% hammered.

What a joy to see her unburdened...loose and relaxed.

Enjoying herself.

Mission accomplished.

“What are you thinking about, Red? You were off in space for a moment there.  Want to share with the class?” Liz asked him through a mouthful of cupcake, trying to eat carefully without any unnecessary spill. 

The white dot of frosting was still present on her nose.

Red remained tight-lipped about it.

For now.

“Another time maybe,” he replied with quirk of the lips. Intoxicated Lizzie was a cheerful Lizzie.

His eyebrows shot up as she took another large bite of his pastry. “I would love to share the cupcake you are eating though. Wasn’t that meant for me?” he baited, pointing towards the cake in her hands.

As if he wouldn’t gladly give it all to her…

Liz’s face glowed, eyeing the half eaten red velvet cake in front of her. He had offered her a piece and she almost ate the whole thing.

“Sorry, I guess I got a little carried away. It is really good. Delicious even,” Liz sheepishly apologized, “Do you want the rest?” she asked, her indistinct gaze struggling to focus on his, realizing that her attempt at normalcy had failed.

She teetered on the edge of complete obliteration. 

Red flashed her a crooked smirk and lightly shook his head. He would rather watch her enjoy and lick the sticky frosting off her fingers with her deft tongue.

He was enthralled with the movement.

A salacious thought filed away for later, for when he was alone. He couldn’t shake the squeamish, shameful feelings that gnarled at him though; this was Sam’s little girl after all.

The girl he watched over from afar.

What was wrong with him?

His gaze shifted over to her heaving chest. _‘Not so little anymore,’_ Red thought as his eyes raked over her face as she sunk her teeth in the cupcake and closed her eyes in enjoyment. Savoring the moment.

Red silently sighed and scratched the back of his head. He really had a gift for impossible relationships.

“Red, are you okay?” Liz questioned with a frown, “Am I boring you?”

She was in the midst of telling him another story about her past, one where she had cocktails for breakfast on a scorching hot holiday more than a decade ago and also how much she was looking forward to another break.

Red loved it when she shared parts of her past; he had only heard bits and pieces about it.

He had kept his distance when it came to her inner social life, and so had Sam.

“On the contrary,” Red affirmed, “I guess I had a moment of reflection on life passed and wondered about the days to come.”

She giggled. “Are you telling me that you’re growing nostalgic on me?”

Red bobbed his head and shrugged his shoulders.  “Maybe a little.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the last bite?” Liz asked, offering him the last piece wedged between her fingers.

The outstretched arm left her scar exposed, vibrant in the offset light looming above their table.

 _Maybe the past is like an anchor holding us back. Maybe you have to let go of who you were to become who you will be_.

Red glanced apprehensively at the bite size portion and made up his mind.

Against his better judgment, he softly took hold of her wrist to keep it still and leaned forward with his eyes locked on hers, moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue.

Hers grew wide and her lips parted as the last inch of space was breached.

Red opened and closed his mouth around the cake, grazing the tip of her fingers, and slowly chewed on the delectable dessert.

His lids closed on their own accord, the last image of Lizzie’s gaping face on his mind where he saw his own inner conflict of desire reflected through her dilated pupils.

He could feel her rapid heartbeat and excessive warmth through his fingers.

“Hmm, delicious indeed,” he responded and re-opened his eyes.

Liz’s whole body turned rigid.

Her expression was nothing short of shock. 

Red swallowed the last part and she swiftly pulled her wrist back.

Both her hands took hold of the side of the table, grasping the edges with such a desperate vice that her knuckles turned white.

Enough was enough; this was the last straw.

No more games.

Liz huffed a deep breath, trying to expurgate her debauched feelings regarding their entire exchange tonight.

Alcohol was always an excellent way to lower someone’s inhibitions.

_A drunk mind speaks a sober heart._

She crossed her arms and gritted her teeth. “ _Exactly_ how many of those teacups did you have?” she inquired, her intention made clear through narrowed, heated eyes.

Her cryptic question shook Red. Caught off guard. Shocked. He knew exactly what she alluded to.

_‘What the hell are you doing?’_

No, no, no...she was supposed to play along.

Lizzie had changed the rules of the game.

Uncharacteristicly, he felt his skin heat up and opened his mouth, poised to respond, but no sound came out.

His face twitched into a pained expression, and it was as if a cork had been stuffed down his throat and he lost his ability to speak. 

“Teacups? Oh dear, you mean teapots. Raymond here can drink a waterfall and still feel normal,” Ling answered for him, appearing out of nowhere, “Too bad Dembe didn’t accompany you tonight.  I would have loved to squeeze his sweet cheeks, but I forgive you since you brought this delightful young woman,” she added, laying a tender hand on Liz’s shoulder to defuse the tension, “Are you two...?” she suggestively asked.

Liz looked away, fully understanding the implication of said question while Red wanted to kiss Ling for saving him from a tough position.

Red forced his voice to work in his favor again.  “We are fr…partners,” he timidly clarified, peering back at Lizzie, the boundaries set firmly back in place.

Ling knew better. “Ah, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” she winked at Liz.

The petite woman turned to grab something out of the cart’s drawers. “May I offer you a fortune cookie?” she asked with the doughy treats in her hands.

“No, thank you,” Liz declined, the words tight against her throat. She was not in the mood for an aphorism or a vague prophecy.

Red sensed the shift.

This was not the way he wanted to end the night.

He squinted at the small numbers on his watch. It was well past 3 a.m. and his old friend must have been tired. “Let’s call it a night, shall we?” 

Liz nodded.

Ling felt the need to simply disappear, to let them sort their feelings out, so she dropped the fortune cookies on their respective sides of the table.

“Here, you can take them home with you,” she suggested.

Red tenderly smiled up at the woman. “Ling, thank you so much for everything. We,” he paused, briefly shifting his line of sight back to Lizzie who still refused to meet his gaze, "I had a wonderful time,” he corrected.

“You are more than welcome, Dear. It was really nice seeing you again.” She gently held Liz’s shoulder to get her attention. “Both of you. Please come back soon.” She bowed down to kiss him on the cheek and left the table.

Liz stood up before Red did and rushed towards the hallway, feeling like an idiot for turning her back on a lovely evening. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning around to see Red drop a few bills with his head bowed down before putting his waistcoat on.

She felt bad for the turn of events. Her emotions were heightened; she was tired, frustrated, and inebriated. 

The guilt was eating her alive; she had royally screwed it _all_ up.

Following his movements like a hawk, she took a minute to admire Red’s appearance. He looked delectable in his three-piece suit, especially his taut butt bending over to pick her empty bag off the floor, crumbling it up to throw away. 

The gesture did not go unnoticed and she realized what it represented.

She had to make things right.

Somehow.

Liz faced the door again in fear of getting caught when he spun around and felt his proximity before a waft of air replaced his presence.

She craned her neck to see if he was still there when he appeared with her jacket in his arms, spread open for her to loop her arms through.

Even after the way she left it, he would be there for her.

No matter what.

It somewhat disintegrated the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

In the safety of her own jacket, Liz spoke and moved to face him. “Red, how are we going to get home?”

An amused grin twitched at the corners of his mouth.  Even after all these years, she was still unpredictable. 

He understood her silent apology.

He understood _her._  

“We are in New York, Lizzie. There is only one way and I don’t want to rouse Dembe,” he answered while meticulously removing his coat off its hanger, button for button as if it were the most delicate piece of woolen cloth. “The man has been on his feet for over 48 hours, he deserves a break.”

Liz had wanted to give him a piece of her mind, waking her up after a tough week and misleading her to get her there, but that smile and his gaze melted all those thoughts away.

She was glad she had said yes and was sad to see the night end.

A step in the right direction.

Red surprised her by holding his coat up, beckoning her to turn around.

“Red, there is really no need,” Liz voiced, wrapping her jacket tighter around her torso, ready for cold to seep in once they left the warmth of the restaurant.

Red knew this was coming, her stubborn nature always ready to make things more difficult than need be.

“Lizzie, there is no telling how long we will have to wait for a taxi at this hour and I don’t want you to get ill because of me. Please, I insist,” he tried again.

“What about you?” she pointed out, casting a look over his taut form and the exposed skin of his upper chest.

“I’ll be fine.” Her concern was touching, yet completely unnecessary. Even though he loathed the cold, he would gladly sacrifice every stitch of clothing to keep her warm.

In the brighter hallway lighting, Liz noticed that his cheeks were slightly flushed as well. Maybe Red was more intoxicated than he led on.

She gave up.  There was no point in arguing with him in this state. She could hardly think, let alone start a pointless discussion.

To be fair, she liked how he treated her.

As a gentleman would a lady.

She slipped her arms into the soft sleeves of his coat and felt him sifting his fingers in her hair to move the strands of her neck, brushing them across the sensitive skin of her nape.

It made her shiver.

Red squeezed her shoulders and opened the door. “My lady.” He bowed.

Liz simply shook her head and grinned, stepping outside to face the chilly air.

Engulfed in his oversized, warm woolen coat and unique scent, she felt shielded, cared for, at home and wanted nothing more than to bury her head in it and never let go.

 

XOXOXO

**So, tell me should I continue? I promise the next chapter is already done and will be posted soon.**

**Next: Ch. 5. Home.**

**Preview:**

_“Sir, we are here.” The Indian accented taxi driver informed him._

_Red gave the man a curt nod and stroked Lizzie’s hair, memorizing the feel and weight of her silk tendrils slither through his fingers. “Lizzie, sweetheart we are home,” his softly spoke._

_Home._

_Truer words couldn’t have been spoken_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUOTES AND FUN FACTS:
> 
> I actually wrote this chapter before Lizzie’s b-day, but had to incorporate the Red-velvet cupcakes some how, what better way to have your cake and eat it too.
> 
>  
> 
> Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. – This saying first appeared in the 3rd century BC in Greek. I swear if I read that Red looks old one more time…
> 
> The law of chemical affinity. - In c. 391 BC, Plato built on Empedocles’ conception of philia (attractive force) and neikos (repulsive force) by postulating the first law of affinity that “likes tend toward likes”, e.g. earth to earth or water to water, etc. In 1250, Albertus Magnus applied the conception of ‘affinity’ to chemical systems and postulated four laws of affinity. – Don’t you just love Wiki? Similar to laws of attraction. 
> 
> Why do we blow out candles on birthdays? – (w) (w) (w) (dot) wonderopolis (dot) (o) ( r ) ( g ) wonder (slash) why-do-we-blow-out-birthday-candles 
> 
> Maybe the past is like an anchor holding us back. Maybe you have to let go of who you were to become who you will be. - sex and the city 
> 
> A drunk mind speaks a sober heart. – French Enlightenment philosopher Jean-Jaques Rousseau, - He uttered this while drunk, So want to get someone to tell you a secret? you’ll know what to do ;)


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaymes Young - One Last Time.
> 
> I'm fading  
> Much too fast, my love  
> I'm waiting  
> For it to pass, my love
> 
> Could I feel your skin on mine  
> Before I have to say goodbye  
> Could I breathe, please, one last time  
> You in my lungs before I curl up  
> And die  
> All my world is losin' light
> 
> I'm leaving  
> This cold world of mine  
> No pleading  
> Is gonna turn back time
> 
> Could I feel your skin on mine  
> Before I have to say goodbye  
> Could I breathe, please, one last time  
> You in my lungs before I curl up  
> And die  
> All my world is losin' light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, mild language ;-)
> 
> A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews and continuous support! Much appreciated.  
> Disclaimer: See ch 1.  
> Special Thanks to my beta on this chapter, professor jadenanne7, love ya.
> 
> I dedicate this chapter to Hudson, the dog suffers from shrinkisme and invisibility. Miss ya lil guy.

 The cab ride was silent except for the soft music playing a familiar string of chords.

 

_And all I can taste is this moment_

_And all I can breathe is your life_

_And sooner or later it's over_

_I just don't wanna miss you tonight_

 

Red observed the sleeping beauty next to him, resting her head against his left shoulder, reminiscent of a point in time where they were in a similar situation.

Only, this time, he couldn’t bring her with him.

He felt her stir and kissed the top of her head. A fleeting smile flashed across her angelic face and she relaxed her grip on his hand again. 

She smelled of sunshine on a rainy day.

His Elizabeth.

_‘Lizzie.’_

A woman of many contradictions.

 

_And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming_

_Or the moment of truth in your lies_

_When everything feels like the movies_

_Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive_

 

A pang of consuming fear and agony made him gasp, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat at the wondrously warm sensation of her hand in his.

Inner torment.

He wanted nothing more than to be able to capture this scene and enjoy the vision for years to come.

Freeze it in time.

Stay here forever.

_With her._

The screeching brakes of the cab signaled the end of their journey.

This was it, so why couldn’t he move an inch?

Every fiber in his body protested.

Was he regretting his decision?  
  
“Sir, we’re here," the Indian-accented taxi driver informed him.  
  
Red gave the man a curt nod and stroked Lizzie’s hair, memorizing the feel and weight of her silk tendrils sliding through his fingers. “Lizzie, Sweetheart,  we are home,” he melodiously spoke.

Truer words couldn’t have been spoken.

“Hmm, five more minutes,” Liz mumbled, rubbing her nose on his shoulder and cuddling closer.

Red huffed a small chuckle and moved to gently rouse her. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”  
  
She gradually opened her eyes, looking up at him with adoration.

_Soft then hard then soft again._

He had to move away _now_ or he would never be able to, “Keep the meter running,” Red instructed the cabbie while helping Lizzie out.

He wrapped an arm around her as the two of them walked towards the apartment on unsteady legs and climbed up the stairs.

Liz’s mind was slow, still fogged up, and the lack of sleep had caught up with her as well. It was a miracle they had made it in one piece, but they made it…eventually.

At her door she fumbled with her keys and after attempt number three, Red took her hand in his, steadily placed the key in the keyhole, and turned the lock.

His heat engulfed her for an elongated second, both motionless, and a shiver replaced the tingly feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Goodnight, Lizzie," Red breathed down into her ear, distancing himself.

“Red, where are you going?” Liz questioned over her shoulder, on the edge of panic.  
  
His face contorted in confusion. “To my own establishment.”  
  
“Oh, don’t you…“ Liz pushed the door open, gesturing to her semi-dark living room. “Would you like to come in for a moment to make sure I don’t trip over my own feet?”

They shared a knowing look.

Neither wanted the night to end just yet.

Red nodded, closing the door behind him.

He deposed his suit jacket and fedora on the hallway hanger and followed her into the living area, his eyes gradually adjusting to his barely lit surroundings.

A single source of artificial illumination coming from the kitchen basked the room in dim orange hues.

No one bothered to turn a switch on.

No sound could be heard, other than slow breathing and the humming of the refrigerator.

Minds on high alert.

Now that she had him, what was she going to do with him?

Liz tossed the keys on the dinner table. “Want something to drink?” she asked, draping his coat and her own jacket over one of the chairs.

No barriers tonight.

Red stood still, somewhat uncomfortably shifting from one foot to another, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “I think we've both had more than enough for this evening,”  
  
Liz scoffed with a sly smirk on her face. “Not that kind of drink, Red. I don’t know about you, but my mouth feels parched,” she clarified from the adjoining kitchen.

“Water would be fine, thank you.”

Red sat down on one of her comfy chairs positioned next to the couch in front of a large window overseeing the Hudson River, and glanced around the sparse living room filled with simple furniture.

An assortment of tasteful art pieces were randomly placed...art-deco paintings displayed on her pristine white walls, a modest vintage coffee table in front of him, a round solid oak dining table for four sat in the middle, a large bookcase, and an antique desk with a few strew about framed pictures of the team, Sam, family members and Hudson perched on top.

Nothing out of the ordinary, but nothing she couldn’t leave behind either.

Him being part of her life had changed her in more ways than one.

Would it have a reverse effect when he no longer was?

Would she feel more at ease to create a home for herself?

She more than deserved the freedom he restricted her from.

Liz reappeared with a glass of cold water and nearly tripped over the rug handing it over.

It was the mere cat-like reflex from Red to grip her arms that saved her from landing flat on her face.  The water sloshed over the side and hit him right in the middle of his chest.

Both were caught off guard, in close proximity, staring at each other.

Liz bent back a little, her fingers grazing over the bristle hairs of his forearms, teasing goose bumps along her skin.

“Oh, fuck! Red, I am so sorry…wait here,” she apologized, ready for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

A bemused expression swept across Red’s face. She had no idea what her colorful choice of expletive did to him.

Liz passed him the glass to fetch one of the towels from the bathroom, but he swiftly snatched her hand.

The touch startled her; a visible wince flashed across her features as she watched his fingers slid up her sensitive scar, gently enclosed over the thin skin of her wrist, and turned her towards him to meet his forest green eyes.

“Lizzie, it’s okay. I’m not made out of sugar,” he calmed her.  The chilling liquid was exactly what he needed to come back to earth.

Liz gave him a once over, focusing on the spot she had left behind. He was anything but. All flesh and wet chest hair, parts of his white button down and vest clung to him like a second skin.

She felt guilty for ruining his expensive clothes regardless, and was the first one to move away, one timid step in front of the other.

“You sure? Do you want anything else to wear? I have several shirts of…that might fit you.” _‘of yours,’_ she wanted to say; she had never given them back nor had he ever asked.

He must have forgotten or simply didn’t care.

It felt like ages ago.  
  
After a large gulp, Red placed the empty glass on the coffee table and settled down on her lush, burgundy red sofa, making it clear that he had no intention of leaving anytime soon. “Thank you for the offer, but there is really no need,” he responded, looking up at her, motioning for her to sit as well.

Liz relaxed and took her seat on the right side of him, leaving less than a foot in-between, and hunched over, trying to unclasp her boots to no avail.

“Stupid shoes almost got me killed,” she muttered in frustration.  
  
Red leaned forward. “Here, let me help you with that,” he offered, crouching down in front of her.  
  
Liz tried to keep her gasp at a minimum, inhaling whatever oxygen was left in the heavy air when his fingers grazed the curves of her ankle and a heat fueled her veins.

She peered down at his balding crown, wondering if it was still as soft as it looked.

His shiny, slate silver hair, barely long enough to grasp.

After a few seconds of seeing- rather feeling him work, she couldn’t resist anymore.

Red subsequently haltered his movement. The touch was surprising, and not entirely unpleasant, but resuming the task at hand proved to be more difficult than expected.

It had nothing to do with his abilities and everything to do with the woman who was currently stroking his hair, dragging her nails across his scalp, her fingers busy feeling around, tugging at a few strands.

Testing their resilience.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed in mock pain.  
  
Liz hit him on the shoulder, the other one over her heart. “Oh, stop being such a baby...you probably enjoyed it.”

A little bit too much.

And so had she.

Red’s mouth twitched in the darkness, he finally got one boot off and then the other.

He sat back down next to her with a groan and pulled her feet onto his lap.  
  
Liz swirled around on her butt, her head landing on the pillowed side of the couch with a soft thud, and planted her flaying arms firmly at the edge to keep her from tumbling over.

Her eyes widened, her mouth poised to ask him what he hell he was doing, but only a sound stuck between a moan and a low whimper escaped the back of her throat when he started to rub the heel of her left foot.

Red’s slightly calloused nimble fingertips, warm palms, and strong hands felt like heaven.

Liz didn’t even feel somewhat remorseful or embarrassed for the noises she produced when he hit the perfect pressure points.

If he minded, he didn’t show, and he leisurely worked on one foot at the time, his breaths coming out in short puffs.

After a while his penetrating scrutiny of her became too much to bear and Liz closed her eyes. She didn’t want do something she might regret later.  

Not in this state.

She wanted the full, sober experience.  
  
Why did she drink so much in the first place? This was not exactly what she had in mind.

To her astonishment and delight, he didn’t stop there, and continued to massage her ankle, the beginning of her calf muscle, and any other parts his deft fingers could reach underneath her skintight jeans.

They left a trail of burning electricity in their wake and wherever he touched, her skin came alive.

_‘Should have worn a skirt.’_

“Red...” she breathed out, and sluggishly lifted her eyes halfmast to be met with a smoldering gaze.  
  
“Yes, Lizzie?” Red intoned, his voice like gravel, letting the syllables roll of his tongue.

“Remember,“ Liz swallowed, an attempt to get her voice back to normal, more confident. “Remember what you said on the phone?”  
  
Red’s eyebrows creased his forehead, his eyelashes fluttering. “Which part?”  
  
“That I could get anything I wanted from you,” she provocatively whispered.  

Red froze...his expression turned stoic and his hands left her body to clasp in front of him, her feet resting on his lap.

Was it regret?

Awareness of where his actions would lead?

Interest?

He could hardly figure out what he was feeling, let alone ascertain what he was doing.

However so, Red was and always had been a man of his word.

Even in their current position.

He cocked his head to the side, his brilliant eyes clear as day. “What is it that you desire, Elizabeth?” he asked peevishly, his tone heavy and wry.  
  
Liz could have sworn that she saw a flash of fear. “Nothing notorious, I assure you, Red. There is no need to be frightened; my intentions are pure,” she replied with a mischievous glint. Empowered.   
  
He glared at her through heavy eyebrows, his mouth tight and jaw set hard.

Liz wiggled her polished toes and stretched like a cat, intentionally putting pressure on his thighs to feel the tight-corded muscles bunch up in tension.

“How about a dance?”

Red did a double take and made a face, his rapid heartbeat slowing down.

_‘Who is playing games now?’_

“A dance?” he repeated in disbelief.  
  
“Yeah, I feel like dancing,”  
  
Red shook his head. “Lizzie, you can hardly stand, let alone move,” he objected, gesturing to her body.   
  
“Try me,” Liz determinately challenged, already on her feet, her blood pressure shooting straight to her brain.

She instantly felt light headed and dizzy, as if she was about to faint.

 _‘Maybe this is not a good idea.’_    
  
A firm hand placed at her waist steadied her while she got her bearings back.  

“What kind of dance do you have in mind?”

Liz licked her lips and brushed her hair out of her face. “Are you up for a tango?” she suggested over her shoulder. Light and playful.  
  
Red more like gurgled than snickered at her.

“Not tonight, Sweetheart. Both of us are far too inebriated to even attempt such a dangerous act,” he warned her and shrugged. “Besides, there is no music to keep the candle burning.”

Liz turned around to face him completely with her hands on her hips. “Well, you are free to sing if the silence frightens you, Red.”

Red pursed his lips in amusement. “I think we can manage a slow waltz.”

She shook her head. “Too boring.”

Red wrinkled his nose.  It was one of the most beautiful, intimate dances.

“What do you propose?”

“Let fate decide.” She held out her right hand for him to take.

Red clasped it in his and pulled her close, noticing her shiver at the contact of his damp clothes against her thin blouse.

He was not nearly as smooth as he normally was. Somehow dancing with Lizzie made him nervous...on edge.

This was the last thing he needed right now, yet the thing he wanted most.

He stepped back to a safer distance. “Sorry,” he apologized, guiding her left hand to his shoulder and placing his own on the small of her back.

“It’s okay.” It was not the water that made her tremble.

After adjusting their position, she gave him a curt nod and he steered her around the room as steadily as possible, swaying from foot to the other, careful not to step on her toes, then slightly accelerated and dipped her.

However, Liz's feet were slower than his. The move was unexpected and she hissed in pain when 180 pounds landed on her fragile bones.

Her other foot shot out to rub the sore spot.

Red ceased all movement and kissed her forehead. “I am so sorry for hurting you, Lizzie. This isn’t exactly going as planned,” he breathed out, looking down at her. “Maybe we should stop,” he proposed, his gaze warm beneath his golden lashes.

His concern was touching, but the last thing Liz wanted was to stop whatever was happening between her and Red.

“No, I’m fine, really. It’s not your fault that I am an uncoordinated klutz at the moment.” Even though her foot was throbbing, she shot him a small, reassuring smile.

What was love without a little pain?

“Hop on.”

“What?” Liz asked, puzzled.

Red pulled her up with relative ease and placed her on his feet, the tricky balancing act barely leaving a strip of air between them.

Liz peered up at him.

“So we can avoid further injury. It was something I did with my daughter when she was little.” Red answered her silent question and resumed their previous activity at a slower pace.

While Liz was happy that he felt comfortable enough to share parts of his former life, her stomach sharply contracted and she tried desperately not to let her disappointment show.

This was not something she wanted to hear from a man she was sexually attracted to.

She glanced down at their feet; it was odd how small hers appeared compared to his. “Is that how you…?”

_'…see me?’_

She couldn’t even finish the sentence...her voice betrayed the heaviness in her heart.

She was not the same girl he had saved more than three decades ago, nor was he the same man shackled by his past.

Her mind knew the answer, but her heart was sill in doubt.

What if she had taken everything out of context?

Both had entertained the idea a long time ago, but feelings had changed and evolved, and no matter how twisted the notion to some may be – she couldn’t have cared less about what others thought about their relationship.

It was theirs and theirs alone.

The past was the past, nothing could change that…what happens _now_ was of far more importance.

The muscle beneath Red’s eye twitched in aggravation. Their faces were only a few inches apart, and he moved his hips from left to right to an almost standstill. “No.” he declared, shaking his head for emphasis, firm and direct.

A lie would have been so much easier, but then again, everything and anything that happened after their second meeting in life would have been misconstrued if that mindset still existed.

How sick would that have been?

No, he could not, even if he ever did.

It was a complicated mess of mixed emotions.

Liz laid her head to rest above his heart; hearing the steady thump soothed her mind and she lowered her eyelids, giving over.

Giving in.

Vulnerable and completely at his mercy.

_Let your life lightly dance on the edges of time like dew on the tip of a leaf._

His body was warm, solid and he smelled of cheap Chinese, faded spicy cologne, smoke, and like Red after a long day.

familiar.   

Like coming home.

 

_You're nobody 'til somebody loves you_

_It's a cold heart, when nobody holds you_

 

This was really happening. 

They were real and he was humming a beautiful song, even worded a few words in between, the vibrations easing through her body.

 

_Fill up my cup, don't ever stop coming_

_Get up on top, I'll make it pop, honey_

_You're nobody 'til somebody loves you_

 

Liz kissed the stubble beneath his jawline. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

_‘Everything.’_

She snaked the hand that was on his shoulder to the middle of his back, the silk of his vest smooth to the touch, and pulled him closer.

“Being here.”

He planted a kiss on the top of her head and she felt his smile, unaware of the sadness hiding behind his eyes, the crippling pain in his heart, or the blinding fear that was tearing him apart.

Red would make this moment last.

“Always.” 

She looked up at him and time slowed down, their faces gradually drifting closer to a point of no return. 

“Lizzie…” he breathed out in a plea, her lips hovering over his, “We can’t..."  The words died in the back of his throat as she lost her balance, gripping the back of his neck for stability while he tried to hold her at bay, resulting in them tumbling over and crashing hard on the floor with Lizzie sprawled out on top of him.

“Oh my god, Red! Are you okay?” she asked, less than a hairbreadth away, checking for any visible injuries.

Red instinctively swatted her prodding hands away, his features twisting in pain. “Nothing major, just my ego,” he groaned out, pushing himself up to lean on his elbows.

Liz sat a back on her knees, resting most of her weight on the expanse of his stomach and placed her hands above his shoulders for leverage.

“Well, it is large enough to survive a dent or two. I thought you were a well versed dancer, Red Astaire,” she teased, her lips quivering in attempt to keep it together, but his bewildered expression and that cute pout sent her over the edge.

She snorted before she broke out in laughter.

It was a magnificent vision, and Lizzie had never been more beautiful to Red than she was right then; her hair disheveled, her dimples and crooked, front teeth on full display, pleasure and delight at his expense radiating from her.

Tears of happiness rolled down her face, falling onto his torso.

The drops of joy marked his skin...the vibrations of her laughter upon his body traveled straight to his heart and he could do nothing but gaze at her in awe.

_They told me that to make her fall in love, I had to make her laugh. But every time she laughs it is me who falls in love._

Nothing could have prepared him for this...not a thousand fairy tale stories eloquently expressing the magic of love fit the description equivalent to this moment.

The man he was had never felt like this before.

Not at this magnitude.

Elizabeth truly was his wonder wall.

He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and she stopped smiling.

Their eyes met, both pairs dilated with desire, breaths shallow and elaborated as his thumb gently brushed along the smooth helix, over her tear stained cheekbone, and across her full, trembling bottom lip.

Red half expected her to flinch and move away, but she didn’t.

Instead, Liz parted her lips with the tip of her tongue and tasted the intrusive pad.

Leaning into his touch, she closed her eyes and he clenched his jaw, fighting every urge to just take her right there.

Her brows knitted together and she exhaled deeply. “Red…” The dam broke and he planted his lips on hers.

Motionless...a simple press of velvet against velvet before reluctantly pulling away after a second or two.

The taste of cake, tea, and Lizzie lingered, and Red subconsciously licked his lips, his darkened stare locked in with hers.

_‘What the hell am I doing?’_

The last thing she needed was him taking advantage of her, yet he couldn’t stop himself...wasn’t strong enough to stop this.

Just once.

This time it was Liz who gawked at him in wonder and the world around them ceased to exist.

The storm of emotions she saw in him was a reflection of her own.

She needed him with a heat and vigor that never burned her before.

After a pregnant pause the butterflies had returned to her stomach and she moved downwards to capture Red’s lips with hers before either one of them had a chance to change their minds.

What started as a tentative, sensual exploration of lips escalated in a culmination of years of pent up sexual tension, frustration, and raw passion.

Soon both were struggling to breathe, tongues tasted the deepest parts of the unknown...sweet and salty...teeth nibbled and bit on soft flesh, noses bumped as they switched angles to explore more, his sturdy fingers woven in her long tendrils...her frame firmly pressed against his upper body from their chests down to their hips, her knees essentially trapping him and her nails clutched at the plush rug beneath them, afraid to let go.

Unwilling to let this moment of ecstasy pass.

Red sucked her lower lip in between his and she moaned in pleasure, her body instinctively responding in the way nature intended it to...the beginning of a glorious night.

Shared heart ratings intensified, drumming loudly in their ears as they continue to fervently kiss for what felt like hours reduced to the reality of mere minutes.

His right hand slowly descended, caressing the expanse of her back, drifting over the taut muscle of her rear, trembling with the effort not to squeeze it while the other massaged the nape of her neck, keeping her close.

Not bothered to hide his obvious state of arousal.

Not wanting this to end.

Neither heard the pitter-patter of small feet until a loud bark exclaimed from the interruptive source and something licked Reddington’s face.

“Hudson, NO!” Liz hollered, pushing the dog in a futile attempt to keep the K-9 from humping Red’s shoulder.

Liz detached herself from the man beneath her, and got up to shove the dog away from him.

Hudson growled at the people who roused him from his sleep and had no intent to include him.

“Don’t you dare,” Liz warned him sternly, waving a finger in his direction.

Behind her, Red grudgingly straightened as well and rid himself of the slime that covered the expanse of his cheek. “I guess he got jealous,” he remarked with a sharp edge to his tone. 

“I am so sorry, Red,” Liz apologized, embarrassed by her dog’s wanton behavior.

Red didn’t know whether to feel relieved or upset at this unexpected turn of affairs.

He let his emotions get the better of him; she wasn’t thinking clearly and he took advantage of that, of her, knowing he would not be sticking around for the aftermath.

It was wrong and yet he desperately wanted do it again, and again and again.  He rubbed his weary, sweat coated face, his lips swollen and tingling from the kiss.

Red flashed her a sexy grin. “No harm done, Lizzie. You can’t fault him for wanting a piece of the action,”  he paused to look her in the eye. “In fact, he was quite a _remarkable_ kisser.”

Liz rolled her eyes, but his answer thrilled her.

She hoped that it was dark enough for him not to see the hot flush creeping up her neck.

Red glanced down at the little interrupter, who sought their attention by barking at them. “Hudson, sit!” he exclaimed, assertive but calm, the timbre of his deep voice commanding, and the dog obeyed, waggling his tail.

He looked up at the humans in curiosity and excitement.

Liz eyed her little companion in shock. He never listened to her like that.

“Wow, just like that. Traitor.”

Red stood beside her with a smug expression. “A dog recognizes authority when he sees it, Lizzie and I am the leader of this pack.”

Liz crossed her arms to dispute this ‘fact’, but the upturned corners of her mouth gave her away.

“You are many things, Red, but the dog whisperer you are not. I know about those ‘secret’ treats you have been giving him these past years,” she accused.

Red looked guilty as charged.  He was under the impression that Lizzie hadn’t noticed, but of course nothing got past her.

How else was he supposed to make the rascal like him? He adored the mutt, but more often than not, he reminded him of his former owner.

Not the brightest of the bunch and unreliable.

Sometimes you had to give some to get some.

Liz knelt down to scratch her dog behind his ears. “But it’s okay, I will be the bad parent. Your way is going to make him fat.”

“Nothing wrong with a little meat on your bones.” Red patted his stomach.“Food is the way to every man’s heart.”

Liz let her eyes wander over his physique. “All the time I wasted trying to figure you out and all I needed to do was to feed you.”

It was remarkable how easily they fell back into their routine, as if nothing had happened. But it did. Her entire body was buzzing with electrified arousal.

Red tilted his head with a small smile on his face, _‘Sweetheart, you had me at hello.'_ and confidently strutted towards his suit jacket. “Before I forget,” he said, feeling around in its pockets.

Once he had what he was looking for, he made his way back to stand in front of Lizzie.

He handed her one of the fortune cookies. “You left this on the table.”

Liz glanced at the crisp cookie with apprehension and back at him.

Red cracked his open and removed the piece of paper. “Take a leap of faith, Lizzie, or are you afraid of what it might say?” he challenged.

Liz pursed her lips in mild annoyance, broke hers in half and clicked a hooded lamp on to have a better read of the inscription.

One ray of light and Red was no longer interested in his fortune, but was paying attention to her instead.

He loved the way Lizzie’s long hair stuck out in every direction, her brows furrowed in concentration...how her hooded eyes altered from night to crystal blue, to the way the lips she was nibbling had reddened from their kiss as well as her chin, and the dark, dispersed wet patches on the front of her wrinkled blouse where she had writhed against him, plastered to her heaving chest.

He lowered his line of vision to her elegant fingers smoothening down the rolled out prophecy

Just by standing there, she was testing his resolve and it took everything he had not to say screw it all, and then her.

Liz turned her head just in time to catch his heated gaze, but remained poised on the surface.

On the inside, her body sent heat to coil in her stomach.

He should not be looking at her like that.

Not again.

His rumpled clothes told the truth.

They had yet to talk about what had occurred, and she dreaded it.

It left her with an unsettling feeling.

“What does yours say?” she timidly voiced, irreversibly breaking him out of his daydream.

Red pulled himself together and took a step forward to settle next to her. “You first.”

Liz shook her head in amusement. “Just so you know, I don’t really believe in these things.”

“Neither do I, so what is keeping you?”

Green met blue in a stare down, both well aware of the tension and unspoken emotions transpiring, too afraid to speak up about it.

Liz rubbed the back of her neck and cleared her throat. “Fine, I’ll go first **. A journey soon begins its prize reflected in another's eyes. When what you see is what you lack then selfless love will change you back** ,” she read out loud.

She dropped the treat and paper on the side table. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Red cocked his head to the side. “Honestly, I have no idea. Coincidentally mine says the same. **A journey soon begins its prize reflected in another's eyes. When what you see is what you lack then selfless love will change you back**.”

Liz peered over to his, leaning against him to get a better read. “Hmm, can’t fault Ling for trying to be original,” she pointed out through a heavy yawn.

Red eyes crinkled, he knew what she was doing. “No, but she does like to praise herself on it.”

Liz tried to hide another yawn behind her hand and closed her eyes for a second.

Red slipped the prophecy in his vest breast pocket, took hold of her slender fingers, and intertwined them with his.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

A second too long apparently, her body was wide-awake, running on adrenaline, but her mind seemed to protest against her will and wanted to shut down.

Liz nodded.  It was not the first time that he put her to bed, but it was the first time she was seriously considering asking him to join.

Would he say yes?

Would there be morning regret?

The ramifications could be severe.

No, she wasn’t ready.

They were not ready for that step.

Liz let him lead her to the bedroom and hoped it was left somewhat tidy.

Red stepped into the boudoir with Lizzie by his side and Hudson trailing behind them, and glanced at the disheveled lilac covers, “Wait here,” he instructed.

She was too exhausted to even argue that it was redundant and watched him straighten the sheets with military precision, and fluff her pillows out.

Something only a lover would do, or Red would do for his lovers.

Either way, Liz had no intention of approaching the subject.

It was a delight to see this side of him, sweet and caring...she might even proposition him to come over to do it every night.

Hopefully one day she would no longer have to and he would stay without her asking.

Red looked up at her with tenderness; the silver streak of moonlight shining upon his handsome face added to the mysterious allure of the man beneath the mask.

It was a dangerously attractive image.

“Do you want to change your attire or freshen up first?”

Liz shook her head.  It would be a struggle to even get her pants off, let alone redress or brush her teeth and the last person she wanted to ask for assistance was Red.

Maybe another time.

Red beckoned her to the bed. “Get in.” He had pulled the covers back enough for her to slip under.

Liz decided that she could even endure his need to boss her around all the time.

At least indulge him once in a while, under the right circumstances.

She brushed past him and crawled beneath the blankets, which was kind of odd with Red hovering over her, following her every move.

Not a bad strange, but still different.

Another thing she could get used to.

Once settled and in a comfortable position, Red bent over to tuck her in and planted a kiss on her forehead.

To his surprise, Lizzie wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug.

At first he felt uneasy, strung like a bowstring, then fully yielded, melting against her.

Their bodies fitted together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and he buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her lovely scent for the last time.

_‘Like spring.’_

“You smell good too,” Liz mumbled in his neck.

Red let out a fleeting deep rumble, another note to add to her alcohol induced list of confessions.

Pheromones attract.

He needed to let go of her, otherwise he wouldn't be able to leave, and the same predicament he found himself in earlier, now even harder to conceive.

Liz pressed her mouth against his cheek, the scratchy stubble prickling against her sensitive lips before laying back down and closing her eyes the second her head hit the cool cotton pillow.

“In case I forgot to tell you, I had a really good time tonight,” she softly spoke, her voice faint towards the end.

Red sat perched on the edge of bed next to her hip and took a moment to observe her, memorizing every angle of her face and the curved lines of her body.

_‘Now is the time to tell her…tell her everything.’_

He worked his jaw and swallowed hard, making a supreme effort to hold his tears back.  “Lizzie, I…” he sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his head, “Me too. Thank you for indulging an old man on his birthday,” Red finished with a heavy load of melancholy hidden behind his upturned lips.

He couldn’t do it.  He was not prepared to see the look on her face when she found out about his disappearance.

Selfishly, he wanted their last interaction to end like this.

On good terms.

Liz’s mouth quirked into a fleeting smile and refrained from making an obscene remark about his age.

“Do you know the way to a woman’s heart?”

Red was a little take aback by the seemingly random question. “I can make an educated guess, but it varies for every woman.”

“Want to know mine?” she tested, her voice barely above a whisper.

His silver glowing eyes were round and begging. “More than anything,” he solemnly expressed in earnest.

Liz turned to her side and opened one half-lidded eye to look at him.

“Nice gestures,” she mumbled and was sound a sleep not a moment later.

Red’s heart grew three sizes and ripped in two.

He leaned down to brush a hair away from her face and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek.

“Goodbye, Lizzie.”

_‘I love you.’_

He watched her for a minute more until her breathing evened out and then resigned to the living room with Hudson hot on his tail.

It was time to face reality.

He dressed himself to leave and patted the dog on the head.

“Take good care of her for me little man.”

Red heard Hudson whine in response, as if he was aware that he would never see his friend again.

Today was another day well spent.

One full of guilty pleasures, but also a day filled with unbearable heartache.

He was heavily infatuated with Lizzie and couldn’t do anything about it.

She deserved far much more than what he had to offer.

Children with her eyes, a house filled with love, warmth and laughter, home cooked meals, and vegging out in front of the TV like zombies.

He pictured the small, chubby faces made in her image, running around the living room in front of him, chased by Lizzie with a spatula.

It was a lovely dream.

Sadly, there was no room for him in it.

If only it had been that simple.

_The virtuous man contents himself with dreaming that which the wicked man does in actual life._

With that vision in mind, Red closed the door on them and slowly descended the endless fleet of stairs.

His legs felt incredibly heavy.

He wanted to turn back, but no amount of good could ever justify nor negate the bad he had done; the lives he ended filled his nightmares with blood and darkened his soul.

Every step he took hurt more than the last until he reached the end.

And just like _that_ …another grand moment in time turned into a memory.

The Concierge of Crime disappeared into the dead of night, just the way he entered Elizabeth Keen’s life...lurking in the shadows, never to return again.

Another year older and none the wiser.

_‘Happy birthday, old man.’_

_We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!...Just kidding, seriously though, what did you guys think?  
> What would you like to see happen after they switched?
> 
> Next : Ch. 6. Be careful what you wish for.  
> Preview: Surprise.
> 
> XOXOXO
> 
> Music:  
> Goo Goo Dolls – Iris.  
> Dean Martin - You're Nobody 'Till Somebody Loves You lyrics.  
> JaymesYoung - One Last Time.  
> Point of Grace - Keep The Candle Burning.  
> Oasis – wonderwall
> 
> QUOTES AND FUN FACTS:
> 
> A journey soon begins its prize reflected in another's eyes. When what you see is what you lack then selfless love will change you back. – Freaky Friday movie
> 
>  
> 
> Wonder wall - Someone that saves you from yourself. Like your superhero or savior. When you feel like you're just stuck in a hole, it's your wonderwall that saves you. And in the Oases song: anything/anyone that makes you happy or brightens your day
> 
> Let your life lightly dance on the edges of time like dew on the tip of a leaf - Rabindranath Tagore
> 
> They told me that to make her fall in love, I had to make her laugh. But every time she laughs it is me who falls in love - Tommaso Ferraris
> 
> The virtuous man contents himself with dreaming that which the wicked man does in actual life - Sigmund Freud
> 
> We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell - Oscar Wilde

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review to let me know what you think.
> 
> Music:  
> LABELLE - Lady Marmalade (1974)  
> Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?


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